Wednesday, June 30, 2004
a phone call
he: So, what's going on?me: I'm not sure what you mean by that.
he: Are we still going cause I haven't heard from you and I need to know.
uh, I did call a couple days ago and left a message
me: As far as I know.
he: Well, you were in a mood last time we talked and got pretty shitty with me.
*I* got shitty with him?
me: I don't want to argue this with you, I feel you were pretty shitty with me.
he: You had no right to get all pissed off.
me: I simply asked if what you were doing was a good idea as you've told me many many times you didn't want to be in that situation.
he: I'm a big boy and I can take care of myself. My girlfriend is none of your business.
it is when you spend three fucking years telling me about her
me: Okay, but then why on earth would you attack me by bringing up Billy rather than just saying "I don't want to discuss this with you?"
he: My fucking girlfriend never (insert broken record here)
me: That has absolutely nothing to do with you and there was no reason you should even be bringing it up, because this has NOTHING to DO WITH ME AND MY RELATIONSHIPS.
of which you know only that one single thing about that particular relationship
*dramatic pause in background music*
cue end of 16 year friendship
Just saved myself roughly $1500 with that call. Actually, I'll be going out in September instead to Lester's wedding. Which I'm way happier about.
Man, now I have to change my will and leave my worldly goods to someone else. Is this how it feels to lose your best friend? Wow. Other than the shaking with anger and absolute utter disbelief at this entire fiasco, I don't feel so bad. Kind of hungry, actually.
The current theory is that I'm the "IT" girl this month. I'm "IT". Does this get any worse or is today actually the day I get to tag someone else, it being the last day of the month and all.
I should have given in to the urge to sign those two checks that were slipped under my door for signature this morning - over to myself instead. The condo corp could recoup the $120,000 by selling my place once they realize I've flown off with the reserve funds. Everyone wins.
Jesus. Enough already. I give, I give, get off my chest and stop poking me in the forehead.
Fuuuuuuuck.
Jen wears a skirt and sandals
Actually I wear them all the time. But, the other day, I wandered around at work for about three hours before someone worked up the nerve to ask me why I had duct tape around my almost-little toe.It's just so difficult to explain that LFD (little funny doctor) makes me do that to get rid of warts so he doesn't have to burn/freeze them off. He has issues or something. Maybe he's afraid of touching people's feet. I dunno. But every two years when a wart pops up on the bottom of my foot or between my toes he just squints at me and says, "Duct tape. Come back in six weeks if it's not gone." (they're little cute warts that take absolutely nothing away from the cuteness of my feet, nay, they ADD to the cuteness of my feet. just so you know)
It's also a little embarrassing when the first thing that people say is, "And you believed him?"
Because then it becomes even more difficult to explain that it actually works.
Covert Activity
I know, it's not that exciting. I warned you. But, the issue here is that ...1. there are some people I would like to talk about, but I can't except to people I 'know' and trust (that's relative and arbitrary, you know that, right?)
2. there are people who, until I 'get' the whole CGI IP blocking thing BECAUSE THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND THE BASIC COURTESY
and, 3. a new approach for me - a bit of a different way of writing. That I'm not so sure about. But since one of them actually went to the person this week - I may have an answer to that soon.
And /or a combination of all three.
lyric at post:
..I can't even think
But I can still smile..color>
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
oh. errr.
If you're here. My new reader. Posts are latest first and then earlier ones after. And, really, it's all pretty ambigious but if I weren't having such a bad 10 days at work, normally I don't think I talk about them that much. Or maybe I do. The "readers" will have to tell you that.Glad to meet you though. Always around if you and C are feeling like you don't know anyone and need to get out.
Monday, June 28, 2004
sweaty heads and catcher in the rye
For some unknown reason in our meandering conversations I must have mentioned to T2 that I've never read Catcher in the Rye. It may have been when Reagan died. Anyways, I get this email last week from T2 in the middle of the night or something that says, "Please remind me I've been carrying Catcher in the Rye back and forth from work in my briefcase for you for 6 days."Then I reminded him but he was on his way to Texas and had left it in his other briefcase. So, yesterday, we're talking about the election and he's explaining minority governments to me and I meander off into some weird freeform explanation of why I need a haircut because my head is sweating, when he says, "OH" and hands me the book.
I should explain that.
For many years I've had a 'girlie' brushcut. Okay, for many years I've had a brushcut. And I liked it that way. But I think I'm getting too old to be trying to pull off the maximum boyishness thing and wanting to be able to just ponytail my hair on the trek around the world, it's gonna take a while for me to grow it. Probably eighteen more months.
I'd forgotten about the head sweating. See, I've inherited this from my father. My head SWEATS. And with a brushcut you get that little 20 km breeze in Calgary and it dries your head, lickety split. But my god, you get a little hair and JEEZ. I walked to work after I voted and for two entire hours afterwards I could run my hands through my hair and they would come out wet. Gross. I know. Trust me, you should have to live with it. Oy vey.
Anyways, like a little trim after I only had one 5 weeks ago is going to help with the head sweats (oh, and thanks, DAD) but at least it'll make me feel better. I miss those three week haircuts, strangers asking to rub my head and just how damn easy it was to do my hair in the mornings. Not to mention I woke up with it exactly the same as when I went to bed. Now? Gahh. Birds track me from outside, tapping on the windows, wanting their nests back.
I mean this, pay attention, all 10 of you, go here because it was the best most true most ... most thing I've read all week. It makes me think "flowers in the concrete" which is a Tom Cochrane song title. The song doesn't matter, really, only the title does.
lyric at post:
..She dances on the pavement
Likes she's the only one
Who's a stranger..color>
and miles to go before i sleep
Aforementioned cattiness attitudishness seems a bit pissed off that I was out at the board meeting. Actually, we were ripping up the carpets in the elevators. Why? Well, there's been stains in them, suddenly appearing about four months ago. We're thinking "hey, let's take our extra five bucks and get those babies replaced." but thankfully prudence prevailed and we thought we should wait for the $700 elevator inspection to make sure it wasn't a leak of some sort that would wreck our new carpets. They also break a lot, so we thought someone should look at that. Usually on Fridays and then we have to pay $600 for some yahoo to come out with his tool and turn them back on.What did that $700 inspector tell us? Did we notice that the elevator was broken alot during the Stanley Cup (those hockey games)? Cause, you know, people were jumping up and down in them. Lots more than usual. From the excitement, you see. Somehow, I don't think Canada's first minority government in 25 years will be inducing much elevator jumping tonight.
(an aside about that.... I voted green like I said. What surprised me is that Mr. CardCarrying Conservative T2, did too. In 2000, their vote was almost negligible, recording only 0.08 per cent, or 1,100 votes. In this election, the party received about half a million votes. Think they'll start to understand about a protest vote? Although, I voted for them cause I wanted to and T2 considered his vote a "spoiled ballot". Whatever, a votes a vote. )
And those stains? Not a leak. But a leak. Someone's been peeing in the elevators. Nice. Nice place I live.
So, it looks like, unless someone's flying out to stay in my building for me (it's actually quite lovely, no really it is), that his highness is having someone come by and plop food down for him once a day. That's the best I can do.
I really need to be away from here. Plus I now really need to see my mommy. And Neil. And some really big trees. And a long lonely highway in the middle of the night while the freight train whistles wail their lonely tale and the whipporwhills....oh my god. Wait a sec.
Reset. Reset. The board meeting was just so far from how terrible they normally are that I'm a bit hyper. Or maybe the pee fumes have gone to my head.
Althoughhhhh, I did get a new credit card in the mail today with a honking big limit. I've been thinking about buying a helicopter. Or a limo/chauffer/gigilo. All that credit makes me giddy.
Instead, I will just go now and wade through condo binders for all the information I promised to provide. I'm not only the secretary, I'm now also the treasurer and I have enough binders to build my very own fort in the living room.
Which, frankly, sounds like a lot more fun.
So. Yeah.
Cat-sitting, surprisingly enough, is the same price as dog sitting. Weird, since with the Munchkin it was based on weight. The cat weighs about the same as her LEG. I don't get it.My options are: the vet. Which given Cabot's background, would more than likely prompt his sanity to pack up the wife and kids for a little permanent vacation.
Pay someone to come by once a day. Which is fine, except I'd be paying for someone to fill his food dish. It's not like he'd come out from under the couch or anything. Sort of pointless since someone from work would come by and do that. For free. Except that would worry me, him being all alone for two weeks.
Take him with me, get mom to take care of him. Except she's got a dog. And she's a bit forgetful so he'd probably escape into the wilds of the island. Plus, she just had part of her forehead removed. Cancer strikes the family yet again. I'm not dealing with that today, though. I'll save it for the long weekend.
Find someone to come and stay here. Anyone want to take a little break from their lives and visit lovely Calgary for two weeks?
I'm hoping someone at the board meeting tonight will take him. Poor thing.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
later
and then I think.... "Fuck the sensitive emotions of others."I'm still not calling him back though. Not until I'm sure I won't push him in front of a train. Verbally, that is. I'm not even sure at this point I WANT to go to California. I have to be aware that there comes a time when you either speak or forfeit what comes next so that I don't pass that point before I respond.
I'm feeling better now. Wow, that only took four or five days. And it only took until Sunday night at 6pm to recover from work. There's something wrong there. I don't want to think about it but I'm absolutely positive in that hopeful and sad way that this week it will all have passed and the office will have regained it's "happier dynamic". Cause it hasn't been just me. For once.
Thank you Jen,also for your help with that. There's no way that T1 can't be happy with those choices.
Although, Neil, I have to admit, that book didn't help very much. So, now, yes, I am going to watch a Mandy Moore movie. She's so cute. Her movies are so positive and appropriate. The message is so uplifting. We're all smiling and we don't even know why.
Alright, there's nothing else on. Leave me alone.
Thinking happy thoughts.
Or at least, less murderous ones.
lyric at post:
..there she was just a walking down the street..color>
six of one, half a dozen of the other
Once I got around to turning on the cell phone, there was a message there. From Saturday at 11:30. Tony:there. Wanting to know if we were still going to California. Considering that the message was a little defensive in an offensive 'it'llbeyourfault' kind of way and my horoscope says this today:...I don't think it's a good time to call and tell him he owes me an apology. I just don't have the energy for it.
I slept most of yesterday and had many weird dreams, finished that book and thought about picking up another one but I'm just sort of blah. Today, I still have work to do but I've just realized that I don't have powerpoint at home, which puts me in a bad position. I'm feeling like I'm wearing a big black stain that I just can't scrub off, this last week was so terrible.
I need to shake it off by tomorrow morning. I do.
Maybe I'll just go out and sit on the balcony.
Friday, June 25, 2004
pass the kleenex, will ya?
Taking a bit of a tissue break from crying my way through 'The Return of the King' I've realized (yet again) that the last few posts really suck. Although I am pretty damn happy it's the weekend, I'm unable to come up with anything amusing to say - mostly because my last few days have not been very amusing at all (yet, there's no denying they've had their good bits). So, in the spirit of reading this book sent to me by my little buddy (can you put those fires out, please? they're travelling 300 miles to smog up my city), I offer a quote I found quite amusing and a little thought provoking.(it's about second hand smoke so if you're a bit er... touchy about that, you may not find this particularly funny) Not that I agree with it, not that it was written a while ago, not that there's anything wrong with that, not that I've been smoking for 23 years and not that I'd stop except I'm no damn quitter, and not that I've faced my own mortality and still continue to smoke.....
Yes, it's a non-smoking seat, but it's not the complaint, it's the attitiude that travels with it, like a magpie splashing wet shit on your head. Fuck off. Find something worth getting excited about. I like anti-abortion activists more than I like anti-smokers. At least pro-life fanatics get excited about something that matters.
Oh, I know, all those tests warn us about the evils of second-hand smoke. But if anyone thinks that brief exposure to one cigarette is going to give them cancer, then they had better save their money and purchase one of those plastic bubbles that John Travolta lived in for that TV movie in the 70's. Because that's the only place they're going to be safe. Anyone who thinks they can get cancer so easily is insane. They should be locked up.
I agree with one gloomy forecast. If you're locked in a small basement room with no ventilation with a person who smokes two packs a day, and you never leave that room for forty years, you MIGHT, not for sure, not a guarantee, but you might run the risk of getting cancer.
But let's say the scientists who live off government grants are right. If someone has that weak a constitution, is so frail in spirit and health that brief exposure to a burning cigarette is going to give them cancer, then so be it. Let them die. We'll end up with a stronger herd. Let's weed out the weak ones. The cranky ones. The pathetic ones who always complain. It's survival of the fittest. Just like fucking Africa.
The only reason that people don't like smoking is that it reminds them of their own mortality. It's like I'm standing there, dressed in a black robe with the big hood, and I've got a cigarette in one hand and a scythe in the other... and they're cringing... and they're thinking... what do you mean this doesn't last forever? What do you mean I have to die one day? And with a deep voice I chuckle from inside my hood.
Because that's really what this anti-smoking crusade comes down to. A fear of dying. Come to think of it, that's what all crusades come down to.
Robert Sedlack. 'The African Safari Papers'.
Thank you for participating in our brief concession break. We now return you to the movie. (cue crying)
whoa there, nellie
Today absolutely sucked.Then, for a sec, thanks to Chris, it didn't.
Then it sucked to a power of 10.
Then, for another second, it didn't, thanks to esch.
Then, after lunch, it began to follow a steep curve into hell (words thanks to Poppy).
And now, I'm home to watch the Return of the King, which I didn't get to see in the theatre and once I finish some more work away from the terror of the office, free to do lots of cool things I'm looking forward to.
Until Monday when the hell cloud descends once more upon my life.
I will, however, vote on my way to work.
While taking the time to remember this post along the way.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
theory and practice
I've been desperately wracking my brain (well, sort of) to come up with something far less hateful and stress ridden than the last two posts but frankly, I am a failure... I mean, I've failed to come up with anything.I've been thinking lately about well, stuff. I think that what's been going on and part of the reason that I've gone from loving the people I work with to out and out loathing some of them comes down to re-evaluating everything around me after two difficult years. Two difficult years during which I learned a lot and avoided a lot but didn't really CHANGE - if that makes sense. Now that I'm finally setting boundaries of acceptable behaviors (for myself - as one of the guilty ones - and those around me) past which I will no longer allow any of us to step (all) over I find that I'm experiencing all sorts of internal conflict. Strangely enough I'm no longer angry about it.
An example? All my life and yup, even six months ago, I would have called Tony:there by now and done whatever it took to preserve our friendship. Even if it meant I had to pretend nothing happened cause isn't it best to be the bigger person when no one else can be?
I'm finally fully realizing that being the bigger person doesn't necessarily mean giving in but maybe only refusing to give in without trying to drag someone else down with me. That doesn't make sense but what I mean by that is I've always been 'shown' that the options are to be mature and give in or be immature and attempt to destroy the other person. Not wanting to be that immature person, I've always felt that the only other choice was to give in. I've been unable to learn by example (having only rarely seen them) that there's a middle ground or how to obtain that balance. I've come a long way towards being able to walk that line.
To deal with what happened below, I respectfully requested that the T's re-evaluate my access to the financial information due to the fact that everyone seemed to be quite busy and I had acquired another VP to take care of. End of request. No finger pointing, no explanation other than what seems to be reasonable and defendable, no giving in and continuing to allow myself to be in a position to have to ask someone else for information. Nice, neat, mature, simple.
The other facet of wanting to have peace and not lose the people I love is simply... I love them. There's a reason I want them in my life. I've put time into these people, they know me, I know them. Without them in my life there would always be an ache where they should have been. A space over my shoulder where they should be standing. But now I know that sometimes I'm the only one who thinks that way. And now I know it's not my issue and it's not up to me to solve it - in Tony:there's case - it's his problem and it's HIS thing to deal with, for better or worse, friendship or no. His choice and he needs to be left alone to make that choice without me just upping and 'being the bigger person', thereby relieving him of the need and responsibility to make a choice. To take that thought even a step further, in doing what I've always done, I'm being unfair not only to myself, but to him.
Along with the other things I'm working on, it's a time of strange things and big internal change for me. Part of that is the realization that I've been so angry all these years precisely *because* I've done things like the example above and then resented the shit out of everyone around me. Then making it worse by never telling them how angry I am. After all, it was my choice to do what I did. I can accept that.
So, instead, now I have set boundaries and try to be strong in what I want to do, in what I think are relatively reasonable expectations of the humans around me and then, when that inevitably goes tits up (mostly because no one is used to me this way) - coming home and dealing with the guilt and the sadness of needing to do those things, even though those feelings aren't really 'right' but just 'Jen'. Changing.
It's always been a generally accepted theory that certain people want to keep you just the way you are and refuse to let you change because their investment is in keeping the control they perceive that they have. That's fine, really, I'm sure that I act that way too. But the time has come for me to make those changes because I feel I need to for my own self-respect and my own well-being and these people around me can take their issues and ....
(I have all these cheesy cliches and catchphrases running through my head. Oh, what the hell....)
...take their issues and
-realize that Homey don't play that game
-eat shit
-take a flying fuck at a rolling donut
-shit or get off the pot
-talk to the hand.
Thank god I've still got enough of a sense of humor to find this all a bit amusing.
edited to fix a couple spelling mistakes ('i' b4 'e' except after c) and add take a long walk off a short pier. Feel free to play along.
Monday, June 21, 2004
What? It's not named after those 2 guys, Gary and Cal?
Calgary was named by Col. James Macleod of the North West Mounted Police ("the Mounties") after Calgary Bay on the Isle of Mull on the Scottish west coast.*That* Calgary (Bay) was a port for poor refugees heading for North America. "Calgary" means "clear running water" in Gaelic, though Calgary Bay was originally called Cala-ghearridh, which translates in Gaelic to "bay-side pasture." The spelling evolved over centuries to become "Calligourie," then "Calligory" and eventually "Calgary".
There you have it.
lyric at post:
..Me, I figure, as each breath goes by
I only own my mind..color>
i love a rainy night
I grew up on a wooded island, a less than tropical version of a rainforest. It rains about 47" a year over a period of 143 days. Full on torrential trees-falling-onto-your-house rainstorms. Much like they say the Eskimos have tons of words to describe snow, I can think of 10 offhand that we used to describe the rain. Although strangely enough, Victoria has the least amount of lightning in all of Canada.I moved to the prairies almost nine years ago. We get 11" of annual rainfall and 333 days of sun a year. People think it's cold here in the winter but normally we have one of the milder winter temperatures in the country. Although it almost always snows on the May 24th long weekend, sometimes in June and usually on Hallowe'en, it just doesn't feel 'wet' here. Low humidity. Lots of dust. Almost always sunny, even when it's -35. Bright and crisp and clear.
Up until I moved east, 'summer' just meant that you were warm and sticky, never dry, never cool. In Calgary, in summer, I still wear jeans. It's that dry heat, don't cha know.
Victoria is grey and cloudy for what I remember as entire months, September to May for sure. I honestly don't think that's distance or time or exaggeration. As much as I hated the endless grey days with the entire city mood swinging from depressed to angry and back again in a gleefully masochistic way, I loved the rain. I loved those storms.
Consequently, when it storms here, my entire being fills with fierce and shouting joy. I can't help it. I can't stop that grin and those shining eyes for the sake of those who don't understand it and nor do I want to.
Today was 23ish (76) and coming home after work I opened the bedroom window to let the air circulate. An hour ago, I'm in my chair reading and I hear the wind pick up. It starts slow, a noise that you barely hear in the background like a quiet conversation in another room and then suddenly it slams into high gear. So suddenly that you swear you can feel it tug you deep in the hollow of your belly. It howls through the air shafts that run from ceiling to parkade in the building. The bedroom door slams shut with a huge bang and Cabot starts to wail in panic.
The rain starts coming down. I can't help myself - I have to go outside. Grabbing my mexican blanket from the couch, I step barefoot onto the balcony and curl up, warm, in my recliner. Face up to the rain, watching the sky through the water running down my face as the wind whips my newly grown hair across my forehead.
And, yes, there it is. Lightning. It flashes, jagged branches filling the sky. I count between the flashes and the thunder like a child while the water pools around me, face up to the endless expanse above me. Holding my breath until the next flash lights the entire city, the entire world, and then gasping and counting the seconds again. Counting the storm closer and over the city and away again. Feeling twelve, feeling sixteen while Eddie Rabbit yells happily in the back of my mind. Laughing with my mouth wide open, rain in my teeth and running between the toes of the foot peeking out from under the blanket.
Twenty minutes later, it's over. Back inside, Cabot still cries, his panicked face watching me from a safe distance as if I'm his anchor and my rope may slither under the waves at any moment. Soaking wet and giggling with joy, I step inside to pick him up and hold him close in the hope that my slowing heartbeat will help to calm him as I lower my voice to tell him a story of a time before he knew me.
I check the weather on the internet and it tells me the wind is 33km, gusting to 45. I sit and read the weather forecast for tomorrow - back up to 24 - and I think that the last twenty minutes were the best I've had in months. I think that I may sleep with the windows open. I think how much I've missed the feeling of wet and I wonder if I'm missing the island.
No. I hated the grey. I only loved the rain.
I think I'll be just fine in the rainforest.
Well I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
I love to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
When it lights up the sky
You know it makes me feel good
Well I love a rainy night
It's such a beautiful sight
I love to feel the rain
On my face
To taste the rain on my lips
In the moonlight shadow
CHORUS:
Wish I was washed
All my cares away
I'd wake up to a sunny day
'Cause I love a rainy night
Yes I love a rainy night
Well I love a rainy night
I love a rainy night
Puts a song
In this heart of mine
Puts a smile on my face every time
if you were the last man on earth...i'd demand a recount
All this site, site, site crap. Tires me out. Change of subject....I found this last week, when reading "Amazonia" they mentioned a hundred foot long Black Caiman (that's a type of alligator/croc - whatever, a big nasty lizard).
What is the point of having an 'always on' internet connection if you can't research things on a moment's notice, I ask? So, I looked it up. No such thing exists of course but even when pacing out 20 feet (which is the biggest recorded one) - jesus, that's freaking HUGE! *shiver*
Anyhow, somehow I found this fella. He is THE last one on Earth.
He's somewhere between 60 and 70 years old, and they figure he could live another hundred years, all alone and doomed. Removed from the wild in 1971, he now resides at the Charles Darwin Research Station in the Galapagos Islands. His story is here.
Isn't that sad? I think it's sad.
I choose to be alone but it's all just illusion, considering there were 160,000ish men between 25 and 44 in my city in 2001 (honestly, I was asked to look that up at work this morning). When you look at it that way, wow, I think I've just lost the sympathy card.
image reloading
Image should change only when the page is reloaded/refreshed. Taking forever to load the page with the random cycling was making me nuts, plus the code is a lot less maintenance work. Will fix the title later as I should be doing some.... work-like things.Sunday, June 20, 2004
even later
The little light bulb went on over my head, so I've optimized the images to see if I can get faster loading before I try and learn how to force the page to load text before images. Which I'm sure I'll have to do anyways, but until then....Example - the cell phone pic was 48.5kb and is now 18kb. Nifty hey?
Where *did* the weekend go?
Random image rotation. Don't bother sitting and watching (like I just did), although, it's 46 images, 5 seconds so it will only take four minutes, but why spoil the fun?Still not sure what I'm doing with the title but my brain is dripping out my ears. I think I solved the problem with the overlap but if not, please let me know.
That means you, my little Poblet, and wonderful B-revamp too.
See? Tired, brains oozing, resorting to nonsensical endearments.
EDIT: one more thing, please. Is it taking forever to download like it is for me?
Saturday, June 19, 2004
halfway there
I'm working towards rotating pictures, or whatever they call that. But I also took so much out of the template and converted it to the style sheet that I no longer have any idea how this looks to you guys.I know it looks good from here and as much as I'd love to be the kind of person who says, "I really couldn't give two shits how it looks to anyone else.", I'm not. Not yet, anyways.
So, tell me what you think and tell me if it's working for you. Thanks!
Shit! In my preview, the boxes/columns were separated by spaces, but they're not now when I look at it here, so tell me if they are for you are not.
LATER: I think I fixed that. Can you also try playing with the size of the window? Pleaaaase? I don't mind the way it shrinks down, except for me the title mushes over right to the pic. So, tell me if it does that for you to. :)
Going away now. Must.lie.down.
Friday, June 18, 2004
forewarned is forearmed, or something like that
...still not really liking the 'new' look and inspired by the Zen Garden, I am endeavoring to completely rewrite my css this weekend for a new look. Hopefully, to write more than one so I can change it periodically whilst still allowing it to load fast without the backgrounds. Incorporating e's idea of using a smaller picture instead.Just so you know, this is way over my head and will require intense learning and a whole lot of fucking it up.
Apologies in advance. You've been warned.
stupidity is my mother tongue
The following email exchange occurred in our office this morning. (for ease of reading it is split into M- male rather than confusing the issue with the individual men involved - by this example I can only conclude that the large majority of them were all sharing the same brain today anyways).M- Quote of the day
"I'm a very deep person. My husband, who is one of the smartest men in the world, never would have married a floozy." -- JESSICA SIMPSON
M- Yeah, she's deep alright. Deep as a puddle.
M- But she makes up for it with hotness.
M- The DB is clearly a fussy man.
Jen- Who apparantly doesn't mind announcing that he is a shining example of chauvinism. Go, DB!
M- I like to set the bar high. Who would have thought that using the word "hot" makes me a chauvenist...(?)
M- Calling someone hot is chauvinistic? Huh?
M- (the youngest guy in the office) - You guys spoken with women much before? Referring to another woman as 'hot' is dangerous... implying that her alleged hotness covers all personality flaws is suicide.
Jen- Bit sad that DB and PL made it to such an advanced age without learning what constitutes chauvinism (or how to spell chauvinist). That's okay though, since you're both so HOT.
M- Those who spelled apparently wrong shouldn't throw stones.
M- That's my biggest pet peeve! I HATE it when people spell apparently wrong!
M- Chauvinism: "bellicose patriotism"; fervent support for a cause. So according to the Oxford, one must specify the cause to which chauvinism is applied.
The things I find frightening about this are:
-not one woman replied to this except me.
-the only men who got how inherently wrong it was were T2 and the youngest guy in the office.
-the rest of them are still insisting that there was absolutely nothing wrong with that comment, but then again, nor do they understand why I find being called a 'chick' offensive.
Fuckwits.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
nutbar alert
In the last 10 days or so, Cabot the Cat has managed to bash his head on something twice. I've never actually seen him do it but I come home and he's sporting bleeding, swollen gashes on his head.I have this sneaking suspicion the scars all over his entire body aren't from fighting off other cats when he lived on the streets, but instead, are reminders of the simple fact that he's a hopeless and accident prone klutz.
Or maybe he's just a traumatized shell of a feline who finds strange comfort in spending his 'rescued' life wandering around the house slamming into things face first.
"Take THAT, you nasty couch. You wan a piece of me, hideous cupboard door? C'mon, c'mon let's see wut you got, lurking chair leg!"
the postman always knocks twice
Periodically I am unable to head off one of those automatic shipments from a book club I joined in a weaker moment a few years ago and a box will show up at the post office for me. A box which is never opened and promptly 'returned to sender' the next day. After which, for the next four months, I receive increasingly nasty letters demanding payment because unfortunately so many books are returned that it takes them five months to show up on your account as being rejected.I came home today to find a package for me in the foyer of my building. Torn open. I guess since it contained books, the illiterate and pathetic human being who ripped it open must not have felt it was worth stealing.
Such a sad example of a human being aside, what would possess the postman to do this, I have no idea. The post office outlet is roughly 100 feet from the door of my building. Even if this were a hamlet of 1,000 people with unlocked doors, car keys in the visors and applie pies cooling on windowsills, under no circumstances should a postman do such a thing. It's not even an excuse if he'd arrived in town this morning on the back of a turnip truck.
Fortunately for me, the losers in the building didn't just pick it up and take it. Because then I'd owe $100 to the book club because I would be unable to prove I hadn't recieved the package.
A hundred dollars for something I don't want, didn't ask for and would never pay such an exorbitant price for in the first place.
Come to think of it, if I wanted to do exactly that, I'd pay my taxes, now wouldn't I?
lyric at post:
..hold tight, wait till the party's over
hold tight, we're in for nasty weather..color>
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
ohhh, that's nifty
Not like I have a million archives but l@@k - over there! - on the left!The archive drop down menu!
Sometimes it does pay to strap on your wellies and slog through the blogger info quagmire. The code is here.
To still be nice to those without javascript, there's a code to display the old list for them at the bottom of this page.
Now, just need to figure out the tweaking to make the font/size match. But not tonight.
thank god, it's not ALL teenagers, it's US!
Study Shows Blog Readers Defy Stereotypes.talking myself into (and back out of) travelling toys
So, yeah, I'm a little bored. There's lots of work to do but I'm too tired to concentrate. Instead, I wandered around asking the guys here about their various accroutrements.Within the office, there are blackberries, treos, four or five different kinds of laptops and a couple iPods. Feel free to follow along as I learn.
1. Laptops. The only choice here would be the Inspiron 300M (or the 'ultra mobile road warrior'). Height and Weight: 2.99lbs and 0.96" thin when closed.
As absolutely lovely and sexy as that sounds (and looks), I'd have to replace it a few times once it inevitably gets stolen at least once per continent, not to mention having to find somewhere to plug it in for an internet connection and the most obvious - lugging it around. Admittedly, not that bad in cities. But in the Daintree? For a month? In the middle of a rainforest with one phone line you're not allowed to use except for emergencies during a 7 month season called only "The Wet"? That becomes slightly more problematic. Why would I want a laptop over anything else you ask? A REAL keyboard. Again, a REAL keyboard. A normal screen. A sense of 'realness' (that may make sense only to me, that bit).
As much as I'm sure that 'thumb-typing' isn't as mind numbing and excruciating as it sounds, nor anything like typing text messages on my cell phone, it would only be viable if I spoke in one word sentences. Can you imagine my posts? -Here. Wet. Bats. Bye.- then on to Africa -Here. Hot. Lions. Bye.- And of course, Ireland -Here. Green. Peaty. Guinness. - Not so much fun for either of us, methinks, not to mention a not particularly gripping chronicle of my travels to enjoy in my declining years.
2. Blackberry. Apart from the fact that I absolutely loathe these nasty little things, currently the providers for BB available in Canada have no 'partners' in Australia or New Zealand (you know, those people I've just divorced after 8 years). I'm assuming someone will get their shit together to partner by the time I leave, but again, I loathe blackberrys. The only truly good thing about the Blackberry is the waterproof, roll-up external keyboard. If it actually works, that is.
3. Treo. See above, although I don't hate it like I hate the Blackberry. (only cause it actually looks more like a phone instead of a calculator).
4. Which brings me to the hip-top offering of my current lovely provider. (if you knew my phone number, you could text me for free from their home page, isn't that cute?) Anyways, I like it, it's tiny, it folds out to be bigger, it's fairly inexpensive, it's quite obviously superior to the Blackberry. Service partners all over. But no external keyboard. I've emailed the developers to ask about compatibility with the other external keyboards and/or if/when they expect to have their own.
Since I'm assuming they will have one by 2006, I shall be fashionably carrying about a lovely light and compact hip-top, to places where there may even be cell service in the middle of the rainforest, believe it or not.
At this point I was far too tired to go any farther past the guy that said, "I've owned about 5 different types of MP3 players and I would never buy anything other than an iPod again." Good, cause when you buy the 4th or 5th or 1800th generation one in a year or so, I'll buy whatever you're upgrading from. Thanks.
...no need to worry, carry on
The local news on the radio this morning indicated that "police admit there MAY be a serial killer operating in Edmonton" and then went on to imply no one should worry, even though they figure he's been doing it for 20 years. Cause the victims are all prostitutes.(and yes, I say "he" because statistically 98% of serial killers are male).
On November 1st, they're also opening up the adoption records here (the province) so that adoptees and birth parents can access identifying information, including medical records. Seems awfully like forward thinking to me, what on earth is the world coming to? They should stop that right now.
I really do have to stop listening to the news.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
grinning like a teenager and tapping my toes
Doug and the Slugs are playing a patio on the 26th of June at an event called Blues, Brews and BBQ's. Obscure Canadian band to be sure, playing in a terrifyingly bad imitation of an Irish pub (not that I'd know what an Irish pub looks like *yet* but it's just one of those things you know to be true), but just mention 'Doug and the Slugs' to anyone and their faces light up with the goofiest grins. It's childhood revisited around here. Their first album cover (Cognac & Bologna) is one of those ones that just never leaves your mind.
I may even show up as I've never seen them play before.
This one was their biggest, I think, or maybe just one of my favorites but you can hear four of them right here.
Too bad that you had to get caught,
That's not like you to lose face.
So sad that you're not as smart,
As you thought you were in the first place.
Baby, I could use some of your persuasion,
(too bad .. persuasion .. too bad .. persuasion)
To wipe away (wipe, wipe, a-wipe, a-wipe a-wipe away)
the taste of your machinations.
(too bad .. machinations .. too bad .. machinations)
It's over,
Kaput except for the tail spin.
(too bad .. for the tail spin .. too bad .. for the tail spin)
Save the dialogue (baby set your dialouge)
for the old men in the pool room.
(too bad .. such a cool room .. in the pool room .. such a cool room)
Try it once, well I'm not so sure,
Try it twice and you're by my door.
Chorus
The money, no more than insulation.
(too bad .. insulation ... too bad .. insulation)
The getaway, (get get a-get a-get a-get away)
I watched with fascination.
(too bad .. fascination .. too bad .. fascination)
The hideway, Woooo! such imagination.
(too bad .. 'magination .. too bad .. 'magination)
Ah .. the 45! Goodbye!
I used it with no hesitation
(too bad .. hesitation .. too bad .. hesitation)
Monday, June 14, 2004
not much of anything, really
Dave over at Acerbia has posted a little and wonderful short story, for those of you who miss him like I do.Today. Tired. Went to bed at 11:30 to finish Wounds (which is one of the ickiest vampire books I've ever read - icky as in the horrible mental images it leaves you with, plus they really hurt an animal) only to decide to read the first chapter of In a Sunburned Country thinking it would be good to make me a little sleepier. Not so. Fabulous book. I laughed out loud, which I barely ever do (Kathy Lette can make me do that). I finally had to force myself to turn off the light at 2:30 am and resist the urge to sleep with it wrapped in my arms. I long for 5 pm so I can speed walk home, throw myself into the 'reading' chair and stay there until I finish it. Whereupon I shall cry little tears because it is done and I am unable to draw out the enjoyment. Instant gratification takes too long, dont'cha know.
In an effort to combat the annoyance of hair on my face (which I've had only one other time in 12 years) I have bobby-pinned my hair behind my ears. Little blue fancy bobby pins. Don't tell anyone - it's awfully girly.
lyric at post:
..go lightly underground, I'll be down there in another day,
I won't rest until you're found..color>
Sunday, June 13, 2004
now, waaaaait just a minute, there
Did I just watch Keanu Reeves give the impression he had more than one facial expression? *gasp* Was that a personality?hm. I think I've just had too much sugar. Some things in the world really are impossible.
Sometimes I forget that there's a million things to do on the internet. Besides blogs I mean. So, I've been here most of the day, but not HERE. I feel neglectful so I'm only here to leave you with a new toy. The Licence Maker.
Saturday, June 12, 2004
a door only slightly ajar
I came to realize at a young age that the people I was supposed to be able to count on, I couldn't. That those I was supposed to be able to turn to for help just didn't exist. And so, fumbling and learning and screwing up badly along the way, I just... got along. And so here I am.I've taken some 'friendly advice' over the last few years about the way I try to handle things alone and the belief, at least from these people, that every once in a while if I just admitted I needed a little help, well, then it would be there.
Tell you what. I tested that. It wasn't.
And so I went back to handling everything myself. Because I am the only resting point I have. Because I am absolute zero. Only I can catch myself.
But there are one or two things I don't think I can clear up. Most notably, one thing I'd like to get a handle on, soon. After hauling it about with me for 20 odd years, it's effects on my life have evolved into bad habits that only worsen with time. So, I thought, just one more time, I would ask for help. If only because I need to admit that maybe there *are* things I could use a little help with.
Enter counsellor buddy. Our time thus far has been spent as such:
1. You're unhappy.
No buddy, I'm not. In fact, I'm in a place I've worked hard to be and I'm fairly content and pleased with that. I'm working towards the goals I've had all my life and if you were paying attention and listening to me you'd realize I'm angry and I have been for a very long time but that's a completely different thing than unhappiness.
2. You won't tell me how you feel.
Because... "I'm angry" means the same thing to everyone. "I feel hurt". Well, pal that means the same thing to most people too. Do you want adjectives? I could give you a hundred, still won't tell you anything, will it? I need to know why I reacted this way and how I can come to terms with it. Not how it makes me feel. I know that and it shouldn't matter to you. What matters here is how I think and why I think that way and then finding a different way to see it.
3. You need to go to a group and talk about this.
No, I don't. If talking about it would do any good, then I would have solved the problem more than 15 years ago. If you want me to talk about the bad habits, what is that going to solve? It's a symptom. Not a cause.
Which of course, leads me back to... figure it out myself.
Up to this point I've made halfhearted efforts in that direction, giving myself too much credit and too much rope with which to hang myself. Mr Counsellor Buddy believes that if I avoid situations that cause issues then that will solve it, at least in the short term. Yeah, short term, that's what I need. Way to solve the problem. Uh, hi *waving* try my entire existence asswipe. Good advice that. Thanks.
To that end I came to the conclusion last night that the only way I could fix this one last thing I wanted out of the way was to face it directly. Actually try really hard, talk myself through it, give myself no rope and face it down. Control it, if you will.
And tonight, I did. I am inordinately pleased as g'damned punch with myself.
I've proven to myself that it can be done. Just once, maybe, but done all the same. After all, anything that can be done once, can be done again and success only breeds more success, right?
Avoidance is not the key. Confrontation and control of the situation and my reaction is. That's my theory. Considering it's the only thing that's succeeded thus far, well, then, I guess I'm right.
These are the decisions that work for me. I'm the one that matters here, not you or your theories and your 'tricks', nor your little rose colored view that help is just around the corner. We all know that you can be mugged and beaten on a busy downtown street and no one will stop to help. Why should me and my little problem be any different? To anyone?
I am absolute zero. I can count on myself. And that's the only thing that matters. In the end.
byebye
hmmph. ready early and pissing around with the crappy camera. but now I'm off. bye!
do people not listen to themselves?
For the last three and a half years, Tony:there has had this girlfriend. Off and on. I've never met her. Don't really want to. From what he tells me, she's no one I'd want to know. Case in point... when told that he and I were going on vacation together, this 32 year old woman's response was to tell him I'd better not show up or she'd 'kick my head in.'Now, the last time I heard that particular phrase was when I was FOURTEEN.
I could go on about all this shit, but frankly, it's pointless. During our last conversation he said it was completely over and the only thing reason it had gone on so long was that the sex was fabulous.
Great. Whatever. You go, girl.
Today he tells me they're back together and I say, "Do you think that's such a good idea? Sounds kind of stupid to me."
Considering he's doing something he has told me sincerely and honestly at least fifty times he does NOT want to do, I think that's a fair question.
Well, forgive me my concern. The response I got was "Well, you can tell me about fucked up relationships, can't you? I'm not the one who gave my fucking bank card to someone who ripped me off."
So, now, suddenly, it's about me.
(just as an aside about that whole thing, which most of you missed, is that MY trust being fucked with has nothing to do with me, it's about the person doing the fucking upping, ie: me trusting someone isn't EVIL or STUPID.)
When I pointed out that this wasn't about me but rather my concern for him, he continued to attack me. So, obviously he knows he's a shithead. Because otherwise why attack? And backpedal on things I know were huge issues. And then attack me some more?
To add insult to injury, he implied that my reaction must have something behind it such as an issue I have with him and her. More specifically because I want him or some such silly thing. Yup, he's my best friend, yup we were boyfriend and girlfriend about 800 years ago, yup, I love him. But if it went beyond best-friendedness and I thought that way, I'd be there. Not here.
Regardless, my final comment there was that in the future I guess he shouldn't tell me anything about her because I trust what he tells me, I believe him and although I am entitled to my own opinion, obviously I shouldn't share said opinion and/or concern with him since I am only there to agree with him and tell him he's right, no matter what he does or says. He needs to do what he needs to do, and yeah, talk to you later. ie: get your head together, realize you've just trashed your best friend and call me, cause I ain't calling you.
But you better hurry up cause we're supposed to be leaving for California in five weeks.
If he's going to let this woman destroy our sixteen year friendship, I guess that's his perogative. And his choice.
Idiot.
...I'm going back to my book. Strangely enough, there's a subplot about a girl who pushed her best friend in front of a subway train. Just because sometimes you want to kill your best friend, so she did. I can relate.
I feel compelled to edit here and finish a thought I was just having.
...Not that I think there's anything wrong with thinking with your dick, occasionally. In fact, I applaud it. I myself, in days past, have had sex with someone for no more than the way their ass looked in their pants (well, I can't remember a specific instance, but you get the idea). I just think the issues begin when you have a relationship with said dick-attraction and then expect your friends to wholeheartedly buy into the contradictory lies you're telling yourself to justify it.
There, now I feel much better.
lost in the dust
The used book store I go to is at the west end of downtown (on my way home, in my twenty blocks, etc) and yesterday, knowing there was nothing to read and having an 'early friday' I left work at 4 to spend some time wandering about in it. Normally, I leave work at five and I think he closes at six so I always feel a bit rushed and cheated when I've got to get out.I lugged in ten of the 60 or so books that sit in the 'trade-in' pile in the bedroom and ended up with a thirty dollar credit. There is nothing that sounds as good as book credit to me.
Well, actually there is, but we won't get into that here.
The proprieter is a strange human being. Perched in amongst stacks of books, he seems uncomfortable with human interaction. Calls me *ma'am*. Which I took as some slam against my age until I heard him call someone who looked 19 the same thing. I'm better now.
Anyways, he's got a lazy eye? I'm not sure we could call it that as it doesn't move at all and seems quite a bit larger that the one that does move. I considered that it may be a glass eye, but don't they move about? It never fails to completely throw me off and in concentrating as hard as possible to look at his good eye, I never have the presence of mind to view it objectively. Especially when one is looking at me and the other one is looking up towards the ceiling. Regardless, it's highly disconcerting.
He asks me about books I've read but never offers his own opinion or comments of any sort, or even really answers back. It's as if asking the question is quite enough and he's fulfilled his duty. I've never seen him reading or even holding an open book. I have this strong feeling that he's not a reader and that he sits, immobile, staring at the dusty walls of books until someone comes through the door, whereupon he twitches into something approximating life.
Nice enough guy, though.
Books books everywhere. Dusty big piles of lovely books. So. I wandered. It was wonderful. Where else but in a used book store can you find a 300 page tome listing all the names of pubs in England? And their origin? Not something you come across in a Chapters or a Coles these days.
I checked the travel books and suppressed the urge to buy all the ones that are even remotely connected to the flight plan, being published mostly in 1998. I've ended up with seven horror books (I 'phase' when reading. Last one was mysteries). I briefly considered adding to my collection of Alan Watts, who's pretty amazing, but haven't been feeling particulary spiritual lately. One of his books was the inspiration for the bottom symbol of my forearm tattoo. There's a full explanation here, under 'meaning #3' if anyone wants the meaning behind it. I think there's a pic here somewhere.....*rummage rummage*
And, although I could not find a description of this particular one on the web, Chambers' Guide to London The Secret City, promises to be quite entertaining in it's goal to "reveal London's secrets, the unusual, macabre and mysterious facts about this fascinating city." With chapters entitled, "Murderers' London" "Secret Places" and "Unusual Pubs" - who could go wrong?
Tonight, to Wade's for a biker theme party. He's got a few Australians and a downunder travel specialist coming who's brains I can pick for information, as well as a friend who lives in Tasmania, so I shall bring along my donation for the food bank (he uses gatherings as a way of collecting - which is such a lovely idea) and settle in for a long night of conversation. Would it be rude to take notes, d'ya think?
lyric at post:
..I said to my reflection, lets get out of this place
Past the church, the steeple, the laundrey on the hill..color>
Friday, June 11, 2004
saving the world, one rodent at a time
In looking about at where I want to go and what I want to do during Airborne Pathojen 2006™ tour, I hit upon a most wonderful idea. Mostly because the UK and Euro exchange rates are horrifying (especially for the pathetic Canadian dollar - 1 GBP = $2.50 / 1 EURO = $1.65).I remember when I was twelve the rate was $3 to one GBP, so things haven't changed all that much in 20 odd years.
Regardless, to extend "away" time (by keeping the $/day ratio low) and see things I wouldn't normally get to see - Conservation Volunteerism!!!! Wahooo!
"O my god, are you mad? you ask? Not really. Or, not mostly.
I already have 'field' experience - living in a logging camp and tracking black bears seven days a week during one project and electrofishing / snorkelling rivers to survey sockeye salmon counts during another. I may be a little less 'fit' now than I was then (although I do weigh the same) but I'm familiar with the amount of work, living conditions, expectations and fieldwork theories/ protocol of that sort of environment.
The other choices in Australia are working on a farm or at a station shearing sheep. Poor little things. Frankly, not as altruistic, is it? I can see the post titles now, 'Girl Snaps and Tries to Shear Foreman Screaming: "Save the lambs! Save the lambs!"' Anyways, not as ecologically friendly nor exciting.
There is one in Scotland working with the dolphins that looks interesting (although a bit expensive, may give that a skip).
Cause of course you pay for transport there and then a stipend for food and accomodation. ie: Scotland is $60 a day, Cape Trib is $15 (keep reading).
I briefly yearned to do either the Game and Lion Park ($60 a day) or the White Lion Breeding project ($90 a day) in southern Africa but the cost to get there is astounding, no matter where I fly in from. It would almost be worth it. I mean, c'mon, Africa? Feeding the lions? Hello? (and yes, it identifies that feeding and cuddling the lions and orphaned animals is part of the job).
Next up was Cape Tribulation Research Centre. BAT research. In the rainforest. Cool. (remember, we're talking about a woman who thinks rats are fantastic (5th & 6th paragragh in that post) I think that one's a keeper (and cheap!).
More research is, of course, required but I think it would be an amazing thing to do along the way in one or two spots. It's nice to pause in one place for a week or two and take a break from being on vacation to do some work. (gahh, did I just say that?) Especially good work. I miss the days in Fish and Wildlife feeling like I actually was doing some good for the planet, no matter how small and insignificant it actually was.
It certainly beats everything I've done since in the 'accomplishing something worthwhile' category. Everything since then has been about making money for faceless environmental killing machines, killing trees researching ways to sell even more stuff to an unsuspecting public and various other nasty personal-survival-based employment. eep. I sound horrid.
The only downside to that is that it requires a more rigid time frame so I think all possibilities will be confined to Australia, New Zealand and Tasmania, since I'll be hitting the UK on the way back to North America and depending on money and millions of other factors, it's not really a time frame I can pinpoint.
So, anyone with any suggestions in that area, feel free to email them along or leave them in the comments. Alternatively, feel free to send $5000 so I *can* do my bit in Africa. Hmm, make that 2,000 ₤ - it sounds way less.
With that, I am going used book shopping. As once again, I am bookless for the weekend.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
fare thee well
AcerbiaI, Asshole
Here's hoping you two are hanging in there, whatever the situation. Sending good thoughts.
No More Ozone.
I'll miss you luckycharm. Thanks, for everything. Come here to visit, please. I'll be waving at you from Alcatraz somewheres about July 22nd. I'll even take a picture just so you know I did.
And, damn if it doesn't make me think......"This calls for Crowded House."
lyric at post:
..I know I'm right
For the first time in my life
That's why I tell you
You'd better be home soon..color>
Oh, and go do Blue Witch's quick little spin and giggle. Go on then.
doctor, doctor, give me the news
I went to see little funny doctor (LFD) today. Normally, he's an hour late. Today - they called me two whole minutes before my appointment. As I walk in, I say to the receptionist, "Is he feeling alright?" without realizing he's standing right there.He comes in to see me soon after and to distract him (clever of me, I think) I say,(all innnocent like with an eye flutter thrown in for good measure) "What on earth is this thing, here, on the wall?" He says, "It's a cauterizer. We use it on smartasses like you."
Apparantly, I'm supposed to be happier than I am. Cause, you know, Wellbutrin (aka: Zyban) is supposed to make you insanely (and I use that term in it's cheeriest sense) happy. Whereas I've just gone from extreme irritability to a mixture of weepiness and low-level irritability. I've known some of the biggest bastards on the planet to get positively giggly and annoyingly huggy on half the dosage I'm taking. Then again, some of us are familiar with my strange reactions to drugs so you'd understand why I'm not surprised at all.
He offered to put me on something else, which of course, I refused. I'd rather the 'devil' I know than the 'devil' I don't, especially when freaky side effects are involved. I'm okay with this level of Jen-ness for the moment. I think the irritability still stems from the fact that I am continuing to sleep less than five hours a night. Which, eventually, I'll exhaust myself right out of. At least I'm hoping.
We argued for a while about whether or not there's a reason for all this other than some chemical imbalance and his theory that some people are just naturally happy or sad and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. Back to the 'these pills should make you happier' thing. We chatted for a while about my trip around the world. When I need to go back and see him again. Then, since my physical isn't until September, I had him check out this weird little lump I have, that I can't really see.
"So, can you have a quick look at my bum?"
Which is a little embarrassing, frankly. And even more embarrassing since I'm telling you. Just for the record though, it's not really on my arse, PER SE, but on the top of my leg, before you even get to my butt. Regardless, I can't see it can I?
Turns out it's just some little weirdy 'man are you getting old' bump and nothing to worry about. In LFD's ultra-professional opinion, "I can cut it out if you want, but really Jen, it's not like anyone ever sees it, right?
I don't think it was strictly necessary to point that out, but I guess I deserved it for picking on him when I got there.
Otherwise, work is freakishy busy and stressful, the cat stopped poking and gnawing and has moved on to chasing himself around the bed in the mornings, thereby destroying the extra 30 minutes of snooziness I usually get.
Everyone else at work is being a bit assholish (yes, dammit, that's a word). Case in point (yesterday):
me: "Hey, JB can you print out that presentation you're working on for T2 for me, in about an hour, please?"
much later, me: "Hey, JB can you print out that presentation?"
again, later, me: "Hey, JB can your print out that presentation before you go for lunch?"
her: "Why?"
me: "Because I need to review it."
her: "I'm not working on it anymore. It's been tabled."
me: "I still need to go over it."
her: "The numbers?"
me: "No, I'm not number checking, I'm reviewing the presentation itself."
her: "But, it's not in any order, just as he gave it to me."
me: "That might be because it's my fucking job to put it in the right order and until I do, that might be why it's been fucking tabled. Can you just fucking print it out or do I need a note from my mommy? Fuuuuuuck!
Followed by an argument today from the same person that I was not allowed to have a copy because then I might change it. Which was the whole point of me handling it, if you haven't got that already.
This has been an ongoing issue with people at work for whom I have minimal interaction with and who have no idea (nor any desire to learn) what I actually do. Normally they don't bother me, but when T2's job is riding on some of this stuff, the roadblocks are a bit tedious. I had to stop him today from sending out an email that said, "Jen speaks for me. When she asks you to do something, it's because I want her to". Call me crazy, but I figure that will make things even more frustrating.
Regardless, T2 makes my work life an absolute joy. I enjoy booking travel in the morning, writing backgrounders on coal bed methane and briefing the team before lunch, researching relative poverty scales for a report and reading the annual report of one of India's top companies to put forward an opinion on whether we want to pursue business with them in the afternoon. The variety and the weight my opinion carries is wonderful, at least in regards to the person I spend most of my time working for. The rest of them, they don't matter.
I did, however, tell T2 I was planning a trip. He looked, just for a moment, like he was about to faint. But I think he's okay now.
He did keep mumbling, "not for 18 months, not for 18 months," however, which was sort of cute, even if he does think I'll only be leaving for six.
Ill-advised? For some management here, yes. For him, it would just be dishonest and disrespectful, neither of which I'm okay with being.
Besides, there's always bartending and cruise ships. Which, unfortunately, would pay more.
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
minimalism
..seems a bit blah to me, I may be a little TOO used to the backgrounds jammed in there..what do you think? am I taking a mulligan on this one?
lyric at post:
..so I walk about this country
and I walk about these streets to find where my heart lies..color>
still not here, but smiling at my inbox
As for your world tour, I included a shirt that will get you welcomed in any Fire Hall you encounter, the coffee is always on.
With also thanks to the helpful and informative Pob today.
Guest Blogger - Vietnam
Who, some of you may remember, was in here from India back in March.Gooooood Morning from VIETNAM, where "phat" and "thang" are real words!!
Me dolla is goin fatha!!!! X-section of where me dolla is going:
- Fresh spring roll w/ peanut sauce = $0.05
- 1 Hr shiatsu massage by a BLIND man (read that twice) = $4.50
- 1 kg lychee fruit = $0.20
(I diverge...Did I get to eat all the lychees? No.
Why?
After only 4 lychees my cranium has heated to a gazillion degrees, my cheeks are pulsating and my neck is prickling.....
I must be having an allergic reaction.
So I try to stay calm, continue to breath, and press my head against the minibus window.
After a few minutes supportive Amy asks in a calm voice, "Hey, do you wanna just make a sound every couple of minutes so we know your throat hasn't closed or anything?"
Ahhhh, backpacking. Things like this don't even phase us anymore. You can't do anything about mysterious skin infections, lice, and sudden bouts of..."you know" - all you can do is "monitor it". If it gets worse, you "monitor some more".
Finally, if things get unbearable, you see a chemist. BUT! Remember my plugged ear in India??? Seeing a chemist can just make things much, much worse.
Fortunately, after 20 minutes of monitoring my "allergic reaction" subsided, and my throat did not close.)
ANYWAY, back to how cheap things are in Vietnam....
$7 buys me a night in the DE-LUX "Ho Bich Hotel" (read that twice), where I'm enjoying:
- cable tv (incl. FREE asian porn)
- fridge
- hot water
- a/c !!!!!!!!
We've also got, but are not using:
- "Beyond explicit" asian porn (yes, this appears in both lists...don't ask, don't tell...)
- A complimentary comb... complete with complimentary hair in it...ewwww!
- NINE (9) complimentary cups (tea cups, bathrm cups, glass cups, bedside table cups....)
- complimentary old man slippers
- complimentary crudded "foot disease infested" shower sandals
- 2 complimentary communal toothbrushes
One other thing... You may be familiar with the horrific Pol Pot regime and genocide that took place in Cambodia from 1975-79... We visited the S21 Prison where thousands of innocent people were tortured to death. Then we went to the Killing Fields, where mass graves of these innocent people have been exumed and thousands of skulls are on display. Through it all, our Cambodian guide kept saying "I don't understand how people were capable of this. It is so wrong. We don't understand."
Next stop on the tour? THE SHOOTING RANGE!!! Where you can fire an AK47 at human shaped targets!!??!!!
We declined this portion of the tour. A tad inappropriate I thought.
That's all for this edition, I hope this finds all of you happy, healthy and loving life!
Love C
Monday, June 07, 2004
away message
I am in an intellectual discussion with a potato.Soon I'll be so caught up in whether it was Descartes or Voltaire who first advocated empiricism that it will fail to strike me as a bit odd that the potato knows much of anything about 17th-century French philosophers. In fact, it knows more about them than I do.
Later, that will probably irritate me....
I'll be back soonish...
away message thanks to Muted Faith color>
the way I see it
As much as I hate the noise, I do feel bad that Calgary lost the Stanley Cup. The team did an incredible thing throughout their entire run. But here's the way I see it...Calgary Flames (CDN team) = 3 American players, 9 int'l players, 17 Canadians.
Tampa Bay Lightning (US team) = 3 American players, 7 int'l players, 15 Canadians.
As far as I'm concerned, it was still Canadians who won the cup. Call me crazy if you wish.
Doesn't anyone ever do the math? It's not who you pays your outrageous paycheques. It's where you come from. And hockey is still our game. Our national game.
(If you don't count lacrosse, which no one gives a shit about these days.)
And, to be fair, baseball is what I consider to be the national game of the Americans. You don't find a whole lot of Canadians playing baseball.
Football, you say? Doesn't count. They're two different games between our countries.
But, that's just the way I see it.
And why are the wives invariably blonde, anorexic, haggard and infinitely more ravaged looking then their husbands?
another notch on the creepy scale
Having slept somewhat funnily the other night, my back is twitching and spasming away so yesterday I made the executive decision to stay home today. Thought I'd sleep in if possible, take a few muscle relaxants, lie about on the floor, you know, all those fun things.Being woken up at 9:30 by the cat wasn't really in the grand plan. He seems to have decided that munching on my bicep isn't quite as effective as he'd like, given, I think, that most of his teeth are missing and the fangs are broken off due to the frozen food I'm sure he gnawed on during his sojourn as a homeless street wimp...er, killer. Mouthing me just doesn't seem to impart the necessary urgency.
This morning he tried a new tactic. Poking me in the eye with his thumb. I swear, I'm absolutely serious about this. This picture is a little deceiving in that the thumbs look like cutesy little bumps when in fact they start quite a bit farther up his paw and are, in actuality, three (yes, three) centimeters long. I measured.
I got out of bed quite smartly when I realized what he was doing. I mean, think about it. EWWWWW. Thumbing me in the eye. Let's just hope that he doesn't have enough strength in his arms to blind me.
Anyways, being up, I checked in with work, got roped into a conference call and am now having to 'work from home'. And hard at it, as you can see.
Which brings me to the thoughts that since most of what I do is accomplished on the internet, why do I even bother to go in at all? Followed closely by, is this a sick day or am I working? And, are they going to pay my cell phone bill for this?
Which means now I feel guilty and must actually do some work.
lyric at post:
..times have changed and times are strange
here I come but I ain't the same,
Mama, I'm coming home..color>
Sunday, June 06, 2004
the winner is
Airborne Pathojen 2006.Thanks for playing everyone.
Saturday, June 05, 2004
the scary side of my inner(net) self..
I'm bored. I'd forgotten how sticky and uncomfortable it is to sleep when it's hot here. My condo stores the heat. Or something. It's the beginning of June and at midnight it's still 72F out there. Which isn't really hot, granted. But it's a nightmarish precurser to the 100F Stampede days in July that have been the norm for the last few years. So, I'm hot and sticking to things in anticipation, I guess. I'd take my glass of wine out on the balcony but the guilt over not being able to take Cabot out there with me is large.Plus, there's no computer out there. Yet.
Another thing. Does "Don't not expect a phone call tonight." mean I should be awake for a while longer? No, really. Double negative, right? I think I clarified that. But I may not really have been paying all that much attention. Sorry, you.
Since I'm not tired anyways, I'm going to crank up Erasure while they sing 'Salsbury Hill' and try and clean up some of the crap floating around on my hard drive.
First up. Internet Bumper Stickers. I'd forgotten how funny these were. Well, at least when you're bored.
Next up, Maledicta Press. I'm particulary saddened at missing Maledicta Six, which lists Canadian Sexual Terms as a highlight. I was not aware our sexual terms were that much different to anyone elses (or at least, the Americans). I do, however, feel the need to register an issue with 'rooting'. Just on general international principle.
If I get REALLY bored and it's 3 am or something, I may try to make Antibubbles. Maybe that's the Guinness mystery solved, right there.
I must have, at one point - maybe during that 8 months where I did fuck all and lived off my package from **&* - thought about Lip Augmentation. *shiver* I may have been taking too many drugs. Actually, now that I think about it, those were relaxing times. Maybe that's why. Who knew? I thought it was surviving the surgery/radiation and the fact that I didn't have to go to work anymore for a while. Silly me.
Yes, yes, the Vancouver, BC Body Perve Social Club. I think I went to look at this after watching some 2 am Friday night 'Showcase, Fridays Without Borders' special. Which unless you're Canadian, you wouldn't understand. Soft porn, fetish stuff, transgender, sex change surgery, you know. In the interest of insomnia and keeping an open mind.
This may have been during the phase I was assuming I'd win a million and then buy a private island. They're actually quite reasonable. I could sell the condo, buy an island and then just never come off of it, since I'd then be broke. But...tempting.
Being a word lover, there's an Erotic Thesaurus, just in case I need to write dirty emails and find myself at a loss for new and interesting words for ... well, anything.
And FINALLY, the crowing glory of my favorites folder....
The University of Southern Carolina Roach Cam. Currently they're looping around something concrete colored and looking suspiciously like the people in my building did during that fire evacuation on Friday.
I've also just removed the wallpaper and 'other' pictures from Billy's side of the partition - I'd frankly forgotten all about it until my Uncle Patrick signed in to check his email and the background was Hitler propaganda.
Somehow, the explanations in cases like that just don't ring true, now do they?
Oh yeah, you know how on weekends you wake up at an ungodly hour, realize it's a weekend and then force yourself to go back to sleep but don't sleep well and then dream weird dreams? Well. This morning I dreamt I met PornyBoy. But I can't tell you what he looks like. Sorry.
Hey, does anyone remember 'Shakespeare's Sister'? Or is that just me? Just cause 'Stay' is playing on my rotation.
lyric at post:
..in the silence of your room
in the darkness of your dreams
you must only think of me
there can be no in between..color>
no longer a text virgin
My first real text message received this morning...(which I'm still unable to reply to, my fault obviously -?!)..We (me & 2 aussie mates) are on our way to 17th Ave. Left GP yesterday, stayed in E last night, nearly in RD now. See you soon! :) T
So. I may be around, I may not. May meet up later, may not. May be the final hockey game tonight, may not.
Will leave a writey bit below.
lyric at post:
..and it seems like the end of the world
when you smile..color>
through the fog
With the Pacific Ocean to the west, it's like a room with one wall missing. Your instinct is to look out, not back, and it's a good instinct.Some of the oaks and elms around them rose over a hundred feet, and they were surrounded by dark mysterious places that whispered of things you couldn't see, but could only imagine and secretly wish for.
I spotted the fog only briefly before disappearing into it, and this made me wonder whether you ever saw things for what they were while you were inside them, a part of them. We almost always know where our best interest lies, I think, but sometimes what we know means very little compared to what we feel or end up doing.
The fog forced me to drive more slowly, and it gave me a few minutes to think. Seemed like all I do is think - that's how a person all alone spends her time, I thought, trapped inside your thoughts and dreams as this car was trapped inside the fog. Moving slowly. Crawling. Waiting for the workday to start. Waiting for something to entertain you. Waiting for daylight. Waiting for night. Waiting. Waiting. Always thinking ahead, never really being where you are, but somewhere you hope to be.
Of course when things started falling around you, you got forgetful and the first thing you were apt to forget was where your best interests lay.
The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It's not hard to do in this world. Life itself does its best to take the memory of magic away from us. You don't know its happening until one day you feel you've lost something but you're not sure what it is.
There are no mistakes. The events that we bring upon ourselves, no matter how unpleasant, are necessary in order to learn what we need to learn; whatever steps we take, they're essential to reach the places we've chosen to go.
These memories of who I was and how I lived are important to me. They make up a large part of who I'm going to be when my journey begins it's ending. I need the memories if I'm ever going to conjure magic again. I need to know and remember...and I want to tell you...
lyric at post:
..and we danced, like a wave on the ocean..color>
Friday, June 04, 2004
hello? hello? is there anyone there?
Uh. Yeah. Here. I'm all embarrassed. Don't pick on me. And, dammit Chris, I made absolutely sure there was no "eh"ing, but then you already know how funny I sound.
Should twenty percent appear too small
In offering an opinion that 14 Calgary Flames flags on your car might be a bit er... over the top, they guy on the radio this morning called them ostentagious. Now, as much as I appreciate that he may be trying to expand his vocabulary, unless he's sure he's got the right word (or even a word at all), then he may want to slow down on that and use words he can actually spell. Like 'total' and 'idiotic' and 'overkill'.I got that thing in the mail yesterday. You know, that thing that the government sends to recap the horror that is your income tax.
That envelope that makes you sit down and PRAY you've completely cocked up your taxes and you don't really owe them all that money.
That in fact they may owe you a tiny little bit? Maybe enough for a pair of little sandals for your cute little feet for the summer?
Yeah, no. I actually do owe them all that money.
daily compound interest, daiiiiily compounnnnnnd innnnnterest. tick. tick.
Get in line, right back there, right behind the EI people, the credit card horrors and those banker types who wield my mortgage. Me? I'm going to California.
lyric at post:
..should five percent appear too small,
be thankful I don't take it all
'cause I'm the taxman,
yeah, I'm the taxman..color>
Thursday, June 03, 2004
things I am baffled by
I have a package, let's say. I take it to the post office. They ask me if I want to send it as a letter or a small air packet. I figure small air packet, it has a long way to go.But, then I figured I would ask what the difference is.
There isn't one. They both get there the same way.
Except that a letter is $12 and a small air packet is $5.
Anyone?
lyric at post:
..I wish you'd unclench your fists
And unpack your suitcase..color>
short and sweet
Enough people liked the coworker suggestion that it and the top voted just became a new poll. For three and a half days. Then we can be done with it.D, song titles in for the last couple weeks.
Big guy, package on the way.
Must go work. Ta.
lyric at post:
..will you wonder, by the fall
will I wonder, was I here at all..color>
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
*hiss* *spit*
I have to choose a song of each of the five artists left for that CD compilation. I want to finish it tonight. Driving me craaaazy.You know when you just can't pick one song over another? Lyrics? Musical phrasing? What? What?
*sigh*
So, in not being able to sit and concentrate on the songs - I get all involved in what I'm doing (like right now) and miss the song, shit, replay that one - I can't work on the liner notes. Which may not make it in anyways. Regardless. I can't DO anything. And I'm far to much of a lunatic to just sit here, contemplating.
So, I rolled up some foil into a ball and played with the cat.
Oh alright, I played and he ran away mewling piteously every time I batted the ball at him.
I had fun anyways.
I should go get him out from under the couch. S'cuse me.
lyric at post:
..sometimes, sometimes, sometimes I just wanna be funky..color>
outside the walking zone
After researching coal bed methane to write a backgrounder for the boss, I had to get up and wander around for a while. Coal bed methane is pretty horrifying. I'd link, but it's too ugly. Suffice it to say that people who live near wells have drinking water that they can light on fire. And... okay, not even any point in starting a rant. I'm trying to live a stress free life. (ha).Then this email came.. to celebrate his 5th year in this locale, DS will be the host for this month's wine-tasting. And, although the apartment used to bear a surprising resemblance to the Normandy beachhead after D-Day, much cleaning and de-cluttering has recently been undertaken, so injuries from cacti, coral, or inconveniently located objects should be uncommon. There may even be sufficient space for all attendees.
If Ron gets too annoying, he can be readily tossed off the balcony.
P.S. It is also near his birthday. Please note he needs no more crap, as it took 5 years to get his place cleaned up for this.
..which made me giggle. Even though I won't go to it. Outside my 20 block radius.
Then an email came around for us to go grab our Calgary Stampede shirts. The first of the flood of graft that comes in this time of year. I've had Stampede stuff before but nothing that actually came from the event itself.
Since I wasn't here on Monday, I didn't get to order one in my size. Which, being an XS, I ended up with a M. Of course. Like wearing a tent. Before the 'ol reduction in chest size, I didn't actually mind wearing the tentage, in fact, I borrowed all the boy's shirts. But NOW, NOW, after having two major and two minor surgeries in the last 10 years, I'm perfectly goddamned proportioned and I want.a.shirt.that.fits. before the damn things grow back again.
Fuckers.
ahem.
There's a girl out of the office right now so MS has this size S in his office and I think, 'You know, I always do the nice thing and take the worst option so someone else gets what they want and this time, fuck that, let someone else get the shaft.' So I went into MS's office and took hers.
She wasn't here to pick her size either but they managed to judge correctly for HER. Besides, she's off getting married, so she has the potential for sex every night for the rest of her life. And I don't. So there.
Then KA, who ordered an M for me and an S for her, but ended up taking an XS, came over and gave me the XS and took back the S.
I love her.
is it time for breccy yet?
I woke up this morning and the cat was chewing on my bicep. Full on wide open mouth all four big teeth sunk into my arm and wiggling back and forth.I thought I was dead and he'd just finally gotten hungry.
After awhile I realized he really was hungry and was just trying to wake me up. I guess that course of action made sense to him.
He always pretends he's really hungry though. Maybe I don't give him enough food.
lyric at post:
..everyone's a winner baby, that's the truth,
and making love to you is such a thrill..color>
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
shit. that was a good one.
Someone at work came up to me today and said, "You know I woke up in the middle of the night on Sunday thinking..."Airborne Pathojen", but it was too late.Damn.
She deserves a hand for that one though, it would have made the poll.
hihjacking a perfectly good comment for purely selfish use
I was over at pas une jen's and started to reply to her post. After a couple of sentences I thought... "What the hell am I doing? I have nothing to say today, but here I am.....".So, with many apologies to anotherjen, here's my comment....
My first job with a temp agency was to take all the 'rejected' high school exams (the ones where it was just an answer sheet with the little circles filled in with pencil) and erase one answer on the lines that had two so the computer could go back and rescan. Well, you know, if one looked like it was supposed to be there and one looked like it just hadn't been erased properly.
You'd never believe how many there were. At the end of a gruelling week I had run out of ways to amuse myself, all alone in that dusty room. I had, however, managed to slog my way through all the ones assigned to me, getting my timesheet signed with no little sense of accomplishment and an even bigger sense of complete freaking relief.
Two things that came to mind today when reading anotherjen's post...
1. I'm sure there's at least 50 high school students out there that passed (or failed) because of my fixing / choices / boredom.
2. You wouldn't believe how many stoners actually made pictures by filling in the circles (the one that most clearly sticks out in my mind was a skull and crossbones that covered the entire page).
Sometimes I wonder if that guy passed. And then I wonder how suprised he was, if he did.
lyric at post:
..I woke you up and I slit the throat of your confidence..color>
