Friday, January 28, 2005
Fiddly Bits
Polar temps have been greatly enjoyed by the dog, who seems to play a helluva lot more in the snow. I'm just grateful that the car starts each morning, we have no burst pipes and I haven't had to shovel in a while.
I'm back 110% into hockey now and so happy. It seems to make me a nicer person when I exercise.
Our big bed and La-Z-Boy recliner are supposed to be delivered tomorrow morning. Looking forward to spreading my girth around them for years to come. I shall miss sleeping in the guest bedroom.
I started a new blog where I will do Corrie Street wrapups, CDN style. We're about 9 months behind the UK but I don't care. I want to do short funny snappy wrapups and record some of the classic Mancucian insults for time immemorial. We have ordered a Tivo (at least, our locally available version) to assist.
I've fallen off the vegetarian wagon three times in the past two weeks. Last week I was sick and I ate a Big Mac. Surprisingly, it made me feel better. On Sunday we took Peter to excellent dim sum in Markham and there was precious little vegetarian stuff to eat, so I just ate everything meaty and enjoyed it. On Wednesday night we ate at Duff's before hockey. I ordered my (old) usual - a small order of hot wings. Even now the thought of the tasty skin with its vinegar-y heat makes my mouth water... but eating the wings was not enjoyable. I think I'm permanently off chicken. The little veins you come across every so often were making me a bit gaggy. I only ate 4 of the 10 pieces. I brought the rest home and eventually ate them last night. The experience was even worse. Is it possible to be a vegetarian who sometimes eats pork-y dim sum and Big Macs?
Polar temps have been greatly enjoyed by the dog, who seems to play a helluva lot more in the snow. I'm just grateful that the car starts each morning, we have no burst pipes and I haven't had to shovel in a while.
I'm back 110% into hockey now and so happy. It seems to make me a nicer person when I exercise.
Our big bed and La-Z-Boy recliner are supposed to be delivered tomorrow morning. Looking forward to spreading my girth around them for years to come. I shall miss sleeping in the guest bedroom.
I started a new blog where I will do Corrie Street wrapups, CDN style. We're about 9 months behind the UK but I don't care. I want to do short funny snappy wrapups and record some of the classic Mancucian insults for time immemorial. We have ordered a Tivo (at least, our locally available version) to assist.
I've fallen off the vegetarian wagon three times in the past two weeks. Last week I was sick and I ate a Big Mac. Surprisingly, it made me feel better. On Sunday we took Peter to excellent dim sum in Markham and there was precious little vegetarian stuff to eat, so I just ate everything meaty and enjoyed it. On Wednesday night we ate at Duff's before hockey. I ordered my (old) usual - a small order of hot wings. Even now the thought of the tasty skin with its vinegar-y heat makes my mouth water... but eating the wings was not enjoyable. I think I'm permanently off chicken. The little veins you come across every so often were making me a bit gaggy. I only ate 4 of the 10 pieces. I brought the rest home and eventually ate them last night. The experience was even worse. Is it possible to be a vegetarian who sometimes eats pork-y dim sum and Big Macs?
Thursday, January 27, 2005
The Faces Of Meth
Scary stuff; The stories behind the faces. Some of these mugshots are taken just a few months apart. Lifted from popculturejunkmail.
Scary stuff; The stories behind the faces. Some of these mugshots are taken just a few months apart. Lifted from popculturejunkmail.
Monday, January 24, 2005
No Room At The Inn
For the past 6 or 7 years we've purposefully kept only 1 bed in our house. The reason is simple - I don't like having certain overnight guests. The odd friend who comes into town and needs a place to stay for a night or two is most welcome. The only-having-one-bed thing is mostly to discourage my out of town sister from making our house her personal flop house when she's here.
While my mom was alive she always lived in the big house we grew up in - the house she owned for 40 years. To me it was always my mom's house, and I was always sort of a visitor. I don't know why - of course it was my home, but I tried to maintain some distance and respect for my mom. My sister was the opposite. She treated that house like it was her personal hotel. She would come into town and stay uninvited with no warning as to her arrival or clue as to her departure. Her behaviour during those times drove us all nutes. She slept in and then yelled at us when we would make noise in the morning. She'd bitch because there wasn't enough hot water. She's sit around like a lump. She's bark at my mom to change things or fix things. She'd take naps all afternoon, or watch TV all day... seeming to have nothing to do but hang around and be unpleasant to those who legitimately lived there.
After my mom's death we sold the house. After that I always made sure never to have a habitable guest room or else suffer through my sister's bitchy, neverending visits.
Our first apartment after the house was sold was a lovely big flat in a Cabbagetown mansion. We made the second bedroom into an office. I remember having the conversation with my sister and she was a little pissed that we had no second bed or pullout couch. She actually said "Where will I stay when I come into town?" Tee hee hee. Yeah lady, the free ride is over. Impose on someone else!
The second apartment (in good old Brockton) was much smaller, since Nick maintained a place in Washington D.C. as well. Absolutely NO room for visitors there either.
The third abode post-mom is our current house, which we own. For four years we've only had 1 bed in this 3-bedroom house. The guest bedroom is starkly empty. The other spare room serves as an office and the master bedroom naturally has our bed in it. Until last week. We have grown out of our double bed. We are now too fat for it. We bought a queen bed on sale.
On Friday night we moved the double bed into the guest bedroom with all its funny dimensions. The bed faces the window at the back of the house. This window has a southern exposure, which is lovely. At 7:30am when you look out the master bedroom the sky looks like sludgey porridge, and yet out the back bedroom window the sky's like the inside of a conch shell all pearly pink, and the trains are whizzing by about every 5 minutes and the tree branches look like devil arms. I like that view.
After moving the bed and making it up the phone rang. It was the furniture store calling to tell us they couldn't bring the new bed on Saturday morning, could they come the following Saturday? Now we have to sleep in the guest bedroom for the rest of the week. So far I've really liked it. I have the side of the bed next to the wall and I love that. I love to squeeze close to the wall and thus the bed seems bigger now. Also, the wall is always cool because the house is so poorly insulated... Instant cooldown next to the nuclear reactor that is Nick in the night.
For the past 6 or 7 years we've purposefully kept only 1 bed in our house. The reason is simple - I don't like having certain overnight guests. The odd friend who comes into town and needs a place to stay for a night or two is most welcome. The only-having-one-bed thing is mostly to discourage my out of town sister from making our house her personal flop house when she's here.
While my mom was alive she always lived in the big house we grew up in - the house she owned for 40 years. To me it was always my mom's house, and I was always sort of a visitor. I don't know why - of course it was my home, but I tried to maintain some distance and respect for my mom. My sister was the opposite. She treated that house like it was her personal hotel. She would come into town and stay uninvited with no warning as to her arrival or clue as to her departure. Her behaviour during those times drove us all nutes. She slept in and then yelled at us when we would make noise in the morning. She'd bitch because there wasn't enough hot water. She's sit around like a lump. She's bark at my mom to change things or fix things. She'd take naps all afternoon, or watch TV all day... seeming to have nothing to do but hang around and be unpleasant to those who legitimately lived there.
After my mom's death we sold the house. After that I always made sure never to have a habitable guest room or else suffer through my sister's bitchy, neverending visits.
Our first apartment after the house was sold was a lovely big flat in a Cabbagetown mansion. We made the second bedroom into an office. I remember having the conversation with my sister and she was a little pissed that we had no second bed or pullout couch. She actually said "Where will I stay when I come into town?" Tee hee hee. Yeah lady, the free ride is over. Impose on someone else!
The second apartment (in good old Brockton) was much smaller, since Nick maintained a place in Washington D.C. as well. Absolutely NO room for visitors there either.
The third abode post-mom is our current house, which we own. For four years we've only had 1 bed in this 3-bedroom house. The guest bedroom is starkly empty. The other spare room serves as an office and the master bedroom naturally has our bed in it. Until last week. We have grown out of our double bed. We are now too fat for it. We bought a queen bed on sale.
On Friday night we moved the double bed into the guest bedroom with all its funny dimensions. The bed faces the window at the back of the house. This window has a southern exposure, which is lovely. At 7:30am when you look out the master bedroom the sky looks like sludgey porridge, and yet out the back bedroom window the sky's like the inside of a conch shell all pearly pink, and the trains are whizzing by about every 5 minutes and the tree branches look like devil arms. I like that view.
After moving the bed and making it up the phone rang. It was the furniture store calling to tell us they couldn't bring the new bed on Saturday morning, could they come the following Saturday? Now we have to sleep in the guest bedroom for the rest of the week. So far I've really liked it. I have the side of the bed next to the wall and I love that. I love to squeeze close to the wall and thus the bed seems bigger now. Also, the wall is always cool because the house is so poorly insulated... Instant cooldown next to the nuclear reactor that is Nick in the night.
Eyes! I Only Do Eyes!
I've been suffering from a severe case of pink eye for the last 4 days. It was subsiding yesterday but it's back today. I think I reinfected myself by putting on eye makeup this morning, or else it's because I forgot to bring the drops to work and haven't been putting them in for the last several hours.
I've been suffering from a severe case of pink eye for the last 4 days. It was subsiding yesterday but it's back today. I think I reinfected myself by putting on eye makeup this morning, or else it's because I forgot to bring the drops to work and haven't been putting them in for the last several hours.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Hello? Is This Thing On?
I've been at my job 5+ years now. That first year was hard. I was hired to do some things that weren't on my career path as I envisioned it, however, the headhunter talked me into it, saying to even get into a bank would be a great thing, and that I could move up and chart my own course. Well, she was partially right.
What I don't think she knew was how tough it is to move up at a bank. For most people it's very tough to move up even one grade. In 5 years I've moved up 2 grades. Second, the pay is low, but the "total compensation" is high (according to the bank). The "total compensation" is base pay (low compared to other industries) + bonus (not bad and always welcome though you really have to earn it, you just don't get it automatically; mine worked out last year to be about 10% of my salary) + Recognition programs (not great; there don't seem to be any formal ones in place for my group) + flexible and non-flexible benefits (good to very good I'd say) + vacation (until I work here for more than 10 years I only get 15 days which SUCKS! It's never enough! Gotta move to Sweden) + pension (rare these days; but it's paid out in bank stock) + RSP matching (or, half-matching to be more accurate -- for every dollar I invest in the bank they match it by 50 cents; Note the last two points means you are pretty heavily invested in the bank which means you aren't diversified). So, I get a relatively low salary, and nothing else is that special except a fair benefits program, and I do get a pension.
But I like it here. I feel like I've got equity here.
But when I first started that WHOLE first year I thought I'd made a terrible mistake. First, there was this woman who was supposed to take a week to train me and show me stuff. Except that she was basically never in the office. When she was occasionally here she'd be very busy arranging for cards and cakes and parties for staff in our group who had birthdays. Once she told me that she was a teacher. That didn't surprise me since I'd encountered teachers in corporate situations before. I asked her where she'd taught and then she clarified that she "liked to teach people". Could've fooled me. She seemed to be avoiding teaching me. Eventually she was let go.
After she was gone people wondered what happened to all the cakes and cards and baby showers. In fact, my boss started to ask me to arrange cakes for people's birthdays. I then asked her if she had a few minutes to talk privately in a conference room. I explained to her that while at work I don't order birthday cakes, send cards around for everyone's signatures, or plan baby showers or retirement parties. My boss seemed really confused by this. She asked why. I said that I'm not that kind of person. That I don't care when people's birthdays are, that things like this get to be really uneven and unfair. That some people who are quiet or don't have as many office buddies or frankly aren't as popular or whatever don't get showered with cards and cakes and elaborate send-offs. And that I don't want to be responsible for tracking everyone's birthday - that I just don't care to do that stuff during business hours or as part of my job. I said that if I have a friend in the office that I really like I'll celebrate her birthday with her or whatever, but only with friends and only in private. She was flabbergasted. I don't think it really sank in because 5 minutes later she said "well if you could just order a cake for so-and-so tomorrow that would be great." I said no. And that was the end of the great cake-'n-card-o-rama.
During that time I sat in a tiny cubicle that frankly barely fit my hips. My knees almost didn't clear below the desk. I had no walls except for the one in front of me. My monitor took up most of the desk space. I was stuck between an orphaned water cooler on my right and a fax machine on my left. Those two things became the bane of my existence.
First, people would ask me why I never changed the water bottle. Or else why didn't I order any water when we were obviously out. There was also a guy who stood in front of the cooler one day and commented to no one that the cooler's reservoir smelled and why didn't somebody change it? With that I called the water cooler company and gave them the serial # of the cooler and told them to come and remove the whole thing. If people wanted water they could go get a drink in the kitchen or find another cooler. And the guy who made the snotty comment? Was let go.
The fax machine was a different story. People would come by and ask me "Do you know how to work this thing?" (um, yeah... I'm as familiar with fax machines as the next person...). I guess they meant they needed some help. The most frequent help-type question was which way to put the paper -- face-up or face-down? There was actually a little icon stamped into the plastic where you fed your fax though. The icon illustrated that you were supposed to put your paper in face-down. Finally, I just put a note on the machine feeder that read: "Put in your fax face-down". That worked most of the time. Then there was the second most popular question "Did my fax go through?" Yes, I am just sitting here as the guardian of all the faxes. People would actually leave notes on my desk like this: "Please notify me if my fax did not go through. Rgds, Camilla" And yet I WAS NOT AT MY DESK SO HOW WOULD I KNOW IF HER FAX WENT THROUGH? And also, WHO THE FUCK IS CAMILLA? People from all different departments would use this fax machine. Finally, after a couple of months I put up a note at eye-level above the fax machine that said "I don't know if your fax went though. I have nothing to do with this fax machine. If you need to know if your fax went through, please stay and see for yourself."
Then there was the exec. who sat kitty corner to me. He was only working part time in my city so he didn't occupy this desk a lot. But when he did... oh my god. He'd actually swing by and say "Any calls?" Meanwhile he'd left his cellphone on his desk all day and it rang at full volume all day, so yeah, I'd say he had some calls... And whenever I'd see this guy around the office he'd ALWAYS begin a conversation with some problem he was having. He'd lost his pager; could I please try to find it? Someone was coming by from tech support to fix his PC; could I please stick around to help them with that? One time he asked me if I knew where his pants were... I didn't even answer. I just stared him down.... Eventually it came out that a valet service was supposed to bring him some clean suits and they hadn't arrived. It turned out he never told them where his desk was or even what floor to go to. I eventually spoke to my boss about this guy. I said "I think [clued out exec.] thinks that I'm somehow his assistant or something...? Sometimes at his desk he just starts talking, like, asking these vague, open-ended questions? Completely out of left field? And I look around there's no one there besides me." She just laughed in an "Aw, isn't he cute" sort of way... And did nothing. I found out later the exec. DID have a parttime assistant in our office. So after my boss didn't help me, I just ignored him or I'd say " I don't know [clued out exec.], why don't you ask your assistant. Her named is [assistant's name]. And then in my mind I'd spell it out slowly for him. He stopped his childishness after that. But it barely mattered, because soonafter he was promoted back to his own city to bedevil the peons there with his mild retardation. And he's received several major promotions since. He's very high up now.
I've been at my job 5+ years now. That first year was hard. I was hired to do some things that weren't on my career path as I envisioned it, however, the headhunter talked me into it, saying to even get into a bank would be a great thing, and that I could move up and chart my own course. Well, she was partially right.
What I don't think she knew was how tough it is to move up at a bank. For most people it's very tough to move up even one grade. In 5 years I've moved up 2 grades. Second, the pay is low, but the "total compensation" is high (according to the bank). The "total compensation" is base pay (low compared to other industries) + bonus (not bad and always welcome though you really have to earn it, you just don't get it automatically; mine worked out last year to be about 10% of my salary) + Recognition programs (not great; there don't seem to be any formal ones in place for my group) + flexible and non-flexible benefits (good to very good I'd say) + vacation (until I work here for more than 10 years I only get 15 days which SUCKS! It's never enough! Gotta move to Sweden) + pension (rare these days; but it's paid out in bank stock) + RSP matching (or, half-matching to be more accurate -- for every dollar I invest in the bank they match it by 50 cents; Note the last two points means you are pretty heavily invested in the bank which means you aren't diversified). So, I get a relatively low salary, and nothing else is that special except a fair benefits program, and I do get a pension.
But I like it here. I feel like I've got equity here.
But when I first started that WHOLE first year I thought I'd made a terrible mistake. First, there was this woman who was supposed to take a week to train me and show me stuff. Except that she was basically never in the office. When she was occasionally here she'd be very busy arranging for cards and cakes and parties for staff in our group who had birthdays. Once she told me that she was a teacher. That didn't surprise me since I'd encountered teachers in corporate situations before. I asked her where she'd taught and then she clarified that she "liked to teach people". Could've fooled me. She seemed to be avoiding teaching me. Eventually she was let go.
After she was gone people wondered what happened to all the cakes and cards and baby showers. In fact, my boss started to ask me to arrange cakes for people's birthdays. I then asked her if she had a few minutes to talk privately in a conference room. I explained to her that while at work I don't order birthday cakes, send cards around for everyone's signatures, or plan baby showers or retirement parties. My boss seemed really confused by this. She asked why. I said that I'm not that kind of person. That I don't care when people's birthdays are, that things like this get to be really uneven and unfair. That some people who are quiet or don't have as many office buddies or frankly aren't as popular or whatever don't get showered with cards and cakes and elaborate send-offs. And that I don't want to be responsible for tracking everyone's birthday - that I just don't care to do that stuff during business hours or as part of my job. I said that if I have a friend in the office that I really like I'll celebrate her birthday with her or whatever, but only with friends and only in private. She was flabbergasted. I don't think it really sank in because 5 minutes later she said "well if you could just order a cake for so-and-so tomorrow that would be great." I said no. And that was the end of the great cake-'n-card-o-rama.
During that time I sat in a tiny cubicle that frankly barely fit my hips. My knees almost didn't clear below the desk. I had no walls except for the one in front of me. My monitor took up most of the desk space. I was stuck between an orphaned water cooler on my right and a fax machine on my left. Those two things became the bane of my existence.
First, people would ask me why I never changed the water bottle. Or else why didn't I order any water when we were obviously out. There was also a guy who stood in front of the cooler one day and commented to no one that the cooler's reservoir smelled and why didn't somebody change it? With that I called the water cooler company and gave them the serial # of the cooler and told them to come and remove the whole thing. If people wanted water they could go get a drink in the kitchen or find another cooler. And the guy who made the snotty comment? Was let go.
The fax machine was a different story. People would come by and ask me "Do you know how to work this thing?" (um, yeah... I'm as familiar with fax machines as the next person...). I guess they meant they needed some help. The most frequent help-type question was which way to put the paper -- face-up or face-down? There was actually a little icon stamped into the plastic where you fed your fax though. The icon illustrated that you were supposed to put your paper in face-down. Finally, I just put a note on the machine feeder that read: "Put in your fax face-down". That worked most of the time. Then there was the second most popular question "Did my fax go through?" Yes, I am just sitting here as the guardian of all the faxes. People would actually leave notes on my desk like this: "Please notify me if my fax did not go through. Rgds, Camilla" And yet I WAS NOT AT MY DESK SO HOW WOULD I KNOW IF HER FAX WENT THROUGH? And also, WHO THE FUCK IS CAMILLA? People from all different departments would use this fax machine. Finally, after a couple of months I put up a note at eye-level above the fax machine that said "I don't know if your fax went though. I have nothing to do with this fax machine. If you need to know if your fax went through, please stay and see for yourself."
Then there was the exec. who sat kitty corner to me. He was only working part time in my city so he didn't occupy this desk a lot. But when he did... oh my god. He'd actually swing by and say "Any calls?" Meanwhile he'd left his cellphone on his desk all day and it rang at full volume all day, so yeah, I'd say he had some calls... And whenever I'd see this guy around the office he'd ALWAYS begin a conversation with some problem he was having. He'd lost his pager; could I please try to find it? Someone was coming by from tech support to fix his PC; could I please stick around to help them with that? One time he asked me if I knew where his pants were... I didn't even answer. I just stared him down.... Eventually it came out that a valet service was supposed to bring him some clean suits and they hadn't arrived. It turned out he never told them where his desk was or even what floor to go to. I eventually spoke to my boss about this guy. I said "I think [clued out exec.] thinks that I'm somehow his assistant or something...? Sometimes at his desk he just starts talking, like, asking these vague, open-ended questions? Completely out of left field? And I look around there's no one there besides me." She just laughed in an "Aw, isn't he cute" sort of way... And did nothing. I found out later the exec. DID have a parttime assistant in our office. So after my boss didn't help me, I just ignored him or I'd say " I don't know [clued out exec.], why don't you ask your assistant. Her named is [assistant's name]. And then in my mind I'd spell it out slowly for him. He stopped his childishness after that. But it barely mattered, because soonafter he was promoted back to his own city to bedevil the peons there with his mild retardation. And he's received several major promotions since. He's very high up now.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
I Like Him Like That
I was thinking about the actors I love. They aren't lookers. There's Bill Murray: aging, pock-marked and apparently a little difficult to get along with on set (if you're Lucy Liu). Jack Black: un-slim, short and has weird hair. Will Ferrell: tall and ungainly. Do you see the trend here? Fucking funny is the trend. I used to really like John Cusack but I just stopped liking him in his movies since Say Anything (with the exception of Being John Malkovich), so he's off my list.
I was thinking about the actors I love. They aren't lookers. There's Bill Murray: aging, pock-marked and apparently a little difficult to get along with on set (if you're Lucy Liu). Jack Black: un-slim, short and has weird hair. Will Ferrell: tall and ungainly. Do you see the trend here? Fucking funny is the trend. I used to really like John Cusack but I just stopped liking him in his movies since Say Anything (with the exception of Being John Malkovich), so he's off my list.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Beyond Crabby
I've had one of the worst PMS sessions I've experienced in a long time. It's awful to feel this way, and I don't know what to do about it. I think I have to discuss this with my doctor. PMS makes me feel like I'm going to snap in anger about 75% of the time. It's difficult to stay calm. It's hard to complete projects. I feel like I can't do anything and that I need a lot of sleep. I feel like I don't want to be around people - yet it's such a relief to get to work and get away from my husband and my house and have other things to do and think about. We joke that if I were Native, my Native name would be Goes Crazy Once A Month (and hub's would be Steps In Dogshit Alot), but it's no joke because it really does feel like I'm going crazy. Partially I think it's the hormones and partially I think it's having bad sleeps at night. Getting exercise helps marginally, I've noticed. That's why hockey and walking the dog are great. But I only really feel 110% better when my period starts.
I've had one of the worst PMS sessions I've experienced in a long time. It's awful to feel this way, and I don't know what to do about it. I think I have to discuss this with my doctor. PMS makes me feel like I'm going to snap in anger about 75% of the time. It's difficult to stay calm. It's hard to complete projects. I feel like I can't do anything and that I need a lot of sleep. I feel like I don't want to be around people - yet it's such a relief to get to work and get away from my husband and my house and have other things to do and think about. We joke that if I were Native, my Native name would be Goes Crazy Once A Month (and hub's would be Steps In Dogshit Alot), but it's no joke because it really does feel like I'm going crazy. Partially I think it's the hormones and partially I think it's having bad sleeps at night. Getting exercise helps marginally, I've noticed. That's why hockey and walking the dog are great. But I only really feel 110% better when my period starts.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Lookin' Mexican
I don't think I'm as pissed at my friend as I was yesterday. I think she's just an idiot. Actually, I think I'm just an idiot.
Today my boss took one look at the poncho I'm wearing and said I "look Mexican". This is a fashion poncho, buddy, knit by hand out of mohair wool. Jeez, it's about as far from Mexican as you can get. Maybe it's just really gay-looking and he couldn't think of anything better to say.
Leaving the house at 6:30am to walk the dog I slipped on some ice on our front walk. I fell through the front gate onto my knees and I dropped (more like threw) the empty wine bottle I was carrying out to the recycling. It smashed all under our neighbour's car. Can a broken wine bottle cause a flat tire? I picked some of it up but the fucking broken glass sliced through the leather of the palm of my glove. I swept the sidewalk clean and walked the dog, or rather, stood about the park freezing whilst the dog ran all over. She sees her "friends" and they all run around like mad things. Her friends are a beagle named Daisy, a blond lab named Tigger (recently neutered - his poor balls are now shaven and deflated), and a very fancy little white dog with long hair (mega fancy breed starting with "B" I think) named Max. Her other good friend is a runty little brindle-coloured boxer named Jazz, who is my favourite dog of all time, yes, I love Jazz almost more than my own dog.
I am still aching all over from hockey two nights ago.
I don't think I'm as pissed at my friend as I was yesterday. I think she's just an idiot. Actually, I think I'm just an idiot.
Today my boss took one look at the poncho I'm wearing and said I "look Mexican". This is a fashion poncho, buddy, knit by hand out of mohair wool. Jeez, it's about as far from Mexican as you can get. Maybe it's just really gay-looking and he couldn't think of anything better to say.
Leaving the house at 6:30am to walk the dog I slipped on some ice on our front walk. I fell through the front gate onto my knees and I dropped (more like threw) the empty wine bottle I was carrying out to the recycling. It smashed all under our neighbour's car. Can a broken wine bottle cause a flat tire? I picked some of it up but the fucking broken glass sliced through the leather of the palm of my glove. I swept the sidewalk clean and walked the dog, or rather, stood about the park freezing whilst the dog ran all over. She sees her "friends" and they all run around like mad things. Her friends are a beagle named Daisy, a blond lab named Tigger (recently neutered - his poor balls are now shaven and deflated), and a very fancy little white dog with long hair (mega fancy breed starting with "B" I think) named Max. Her other good friend is a runty little brindle-coloured boxer named Jazz, who is my favourite dog of all time, yes, I love Jazz almost more than my own dog.
I am still aching all over from hockey two nights ago.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
When It Bites You In The Ass
Today there were some big email mix-ups in my social life. No deets here but I will say I blind copied someone who I thought might have some insight into an issue I was pushing. I should also note that she has generally shaky netiquette and loves to have the last word. She is also expecting a baby soon. I don't know her work situation - like, if she's off on mat leave yet - or works from home.
I was trying to clarify something in email in an effort of avoid hurt feelings from others later. When it all turned out just to be a misunderstanding I expressed my relief and happiness to her. She responds: "You are weird Betty - mountains out of molehills. I guess I Have been out of the social game for too long to understand what you were concerned about."
That's her version of getting in a dig vis-a-vis the last word. Usually I would just think "bitch", let it go, and not respond. But actually I did respond, and called her on it. I said: "I was just concerned that someone's feelings might get hurt if they were going to be left out, and I'm very glad it turned out to be nothing. I don't think that's being weird." Oooh, I know, lame response. I can't be a bitch for real I guess. Just in my head.
That's the second time in the last few months email has bitten me in the ass. I hate people.
Today there were some big email mix-ups in my social life. No deets here but I will say I blind copied someone who I thought might have some insight into an issue I was pushing. I should also note that she has generally shaky netiquette and loves to have the last word. She is also expecting a baby soon. I don't know her work situation - like, if she's off on mat leave yet - or works from home.
I was trying to clarify something in email in an effort of avoid hurt feelings from others later. When it all turned out just to be a misunderstanding I expressed my relief and happiness to her. She responds: "You are weird Betty - mountains out of molehills. I guess I Have been out of the social game for too long to understand what you were concerned about."
That's her version of getting in a dig vis-a-vis the last word. Usually I would just think "bitch", let it go, and not respond. But actually I did respond, and called her on it. I said: "I was just concerned that someone's feelings might get hurt if they were going to be left out, and I'm very glad it turned out to be nothing. I don't think that's being weird." Oooh, I know, lame response. I can't be a bitch for real I guess. Just in my head.
That's the second time in the last few months email has bitten me in the ass. I hate people.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
What Have I Got To Look Forward To?
Now that we're back from Cuba and all the stat holidays are finished for the next little while, I'm wondering what we've got to look forward to...
The first thing we addressed when we got back was whether or not to start planning a trip for NEXT Christmas because my sister was thinking we should have the whole family down to her timeshare in Puerto Vallarta. We decided no - we didn't want to go away again next year - especially with two little kids, my brother and my sister - all people who look to others to "lead" them and be told what to do (note - it's not me. They seem to want to be told what to do - it's not that I think they need to be bossed - they are genuinely not leaders or independent thinkers). Plus the fact that we'd be either cooking (and cleaning up!) or eating out all the time. It seemed too daunting for us so we decided to take a pass and we'll just hang around here next year, cook a turkey, etc.
Some girlfriends told me that wanted us to go to South Beach for a long weekend at the end of January. I looked into everything - hotels, flights, etc., but due to one person's indecision we missed out on cheap flights and had to scrap the whole idea (to tell you the truth... I've always thought South Beach to be a tad skanky?!? I'd still love to have gone, but anyway...). Now the same friends want to take the train first class to Montreal for a weekend in February, to be spent sightseeing, skating and staying in a fabulous boutique hotel. I've been to Montreal plenty in the winter. It's so much fun but they have NO IDEA how cold it will be. You're bundled up constantly... there's almost no opportunity to look fabulous and chic. You've gotta have a damn warm coat and boots. If all goes well we'll be booking in a day or two.
After that... There's the camp party we've got planned in March. All the hockey I'll be playing between now and my surgery in May. Rugby practices starting up in April. The home stuff we keep saying we should do but never commit to (back garden reno, take up all the shitty broadloom, dig down in the basement and properly seal it), we're finally going to start doing, FINALLY! And maybe our 10 year anniversary in Vegas that we're semi-planning: Just 3 nights at Bellagio, renewal of vows down at the Little Chapel of the Flowers, maybe a little hiking in the desert, cruising the buffet, roulette, etc.
Now that we're back from Cuba and all the stat holidays are finished for the next little while, I'm wondering what we've got to look forward to...
The first thing we addressed when we got back was whether or not to start planning a trip for NEXT Christmas because my sister was thinking we should have the whole family down to her timeshare in Puerto Vallarta. We decided no - we didn't want to go away again next year - especially with two little kids, my brother and my sister - all people who look to others to "lead" them and be told what to do (note - it's not me. They seem to want to be told what to do - it's not that I think they need to be bossed - they are genuinely not leaders or independent thinkers). Plus the fact that we'd be either cooking (and cleaning up!) or eating out all the time. It seemed too daunting for us so we decided to take a pass and we'll just hang around here next year, cook a turkey, etc.
Some girlfriends told me that wanted us to go to South Beach for a long weekend at the end of January. I looked into everything - hotels, flights, etc., but due to one person's indecision we missed out on cheap flights and had to scrap the whole idea (to tell you the truth... I've always thought South Beach to be a tad skanky?!? I'd still love to have gone, but anyway...). Now the same friends want to take the train first class to Montreal for a weekend in February, to be spent sightseeing, skating and staying in a fabulous boutique hotel. I've been to Montreal plenty in the winter. It's so much fun but they have NO IDEA how cold it will be. You're bundled up constantly... there's almost no opportunity to look fabulous and chic. You've gotta have a damn warm coat and boots. If all goes well we'll be booking in a day or two.
After that... There's the camp party we've got planned in March. All the hockey I'll be playing between now and my surgery in May. Rugby practices starting up in April. The home stuff we keep saying we should do but never commit to (back garden reno, take up all the shitty broadloom, dig down in the basement and properly seal it), we're finally going to start doing, FINALLY! And maybe our 10 year anniversary in Vegas that we're semi-planning: Just 3 nights at Bellagio, renewal of vows down at the Little Chapel of the Flowers, maybe a little hiking in the desert, cruising the buffet, roulette, etc.
Friday, January 07, 2005
I Kind Of Feel He Would Be Very Loving
This item on Gawker Stalker from yesterday made me smile. Trashing "bigface" Steven van Zandt and yet imagining nice things about him too...
"who talks on huge car phones anymore? apparently steven van zandt does. Saw him in a very colorful bandana in the passenger seat of a large chevy suburban turning off madison onto 34th. what a bigface. i kind of feel he would be very loving."
This item on Gawker Stalker from yesterday made me smile. Trashing "bigface" Steven van Zandt and yet imagining nice things about him too...
"who talks on huge car phones anymore? apparently steven van zandt does. Saw him in a very colorful bandana in the passenger seat of a large chevy suburban turning off madison onto 34th. what a bigface. i kind of feel he would be very loving."
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Gay Friends / Weddings / Babies
I don't have too many gay friends. And yet if I actually counted... I'd probably find I have more than average. Anyway, the ones I have all seem to be married or engaged and having kids. It's amazing that in my short life this has gone from a "lifestyle" to a way of being that's no big whoop.
A friend emailed me today after a few months of being out of touch, since about the summer. She got engaged last month and gave her financée a big rock, and the financée is being artificially inseminated this week. On the one hand it seems like wow - whew! - that's wild! And on the other hand it seems like the oldest news in the world. Whenever someone on my hockey teams gets engaged we always scream, congratulate her, ogle her ring, bug her big time and press her for details. And in my mind I think "another one bites the dust!", because we're at the point now where most of our friends are married and we've been to a fuckload of weddings in the past 10 or 12 years and it's nothing new. But the last couple of years some gay weddings and babies have crept in and I think it's fantastic, and also that it's getting to be almost boring in a sense.
I don't have too many gay friends. And yet if I actually counted... I'd probably find I have more than average. Anyway, the ones I have all seem to be married or engaged and having kids. It's amazing that in my short life this has gone from a "lifestyle" to a way of being that's no big whoop.
A friend emailed me today after a few months of being out of touch, since about the summer. She got engaged last month and gave her financée a big rock, and the financée is being artificially inseminated this week. On the one hand it seems like wow - whew! - that's wild! And on the other hand it seems like the oldest news in the world. Whenever someone on my hockey teams gets engaged we always scream, congratulate her, ogle her ring, bug her big time and press her for details. And in my mind I think "another one bites the dust!", because we're at the point now where most of our friends are married and we've been to a fuckload of weddings in the past 10 or 12 years and it's nothing new. But the last couple of years some gay weddings and babies have crept in and I think it's fantastic, and also that it's getting to be almost boring in a sense.
Missing Meat
I've been vegetarian for a couple of months now. What I miss a lot is turkey meat, stuffing and skin. That was really hard to pass up over Christmas. I was also exposed to a couple of beautifully cured spiral cut hams on the bone. Damn I wanted some of that salty salty ham. I also miss bacon. God I love bacon. I could eat a half pound of it. For breakfast. In a BLT. On a caesar salad. And sausage. All the lovely kinds of sausage we would buy at St. Lawrence Market. That's the first tier of things I miss. Tier two goes something like: rib steaks, roast beef with all the trimmings, Big Macs and hot dogs (oh for a Hebrew National). Everything else doesn't matter. Sure, I love a gigantic deli sandwich (the Fressor at The Pickle Barrel!), or a festering special from Swiss Chalet (not Swiss, not a chalet... yet so real). And then there's my chili. Hot, spicy, delicious chili bubbling quietly all day on the stovetop - made with ground beef, pork and veal. Those things are missed too. But not as much has the holiday turkey and ham. Damnit that was hard.
I've been vegetarian for a couple of months now. What I miss a lot is turkey meat, stuffing and skin. That was really hard to pass up over Christmas. I was also exposed to a couple of beautifully cured spiral cut hams on the bone. Damn I wanted some of that salty salty ham. I also miss bacon. God I love bacon. I could eat a half pound of it. For breakfast. In a BLT. On a caesar salad. And sausage. All the lovely kinds of sausage we would buy at St. Lawrence Market. That's the first tier of things I miss. Tier two goes something like: rib steaks, roast beef with all the trimmings, Big Macs and hot dogs (oh for a Hebrew National). Everything else doesn't matter. Sure, I love a gigantic deli sandwich (the Fressor at The Pickle Barrel!), or a festering special from Swiss Chalet (not Swiss, not a chalet... yet so real). And then there's my chili. Hot, spicy, delicious chili bubbling quietly all day on the stovetop - made with ground beef, pork and veal. Those things are missed too. But not as much has the holiday turkey and ham. Damnit that was hard.
