Saturday, January 10, 2004
international callers
...like Purple Pen, my maths suck. Obviously. The whole cow thing just pisses me off. Whatever you do though, don't get me started on porridge. ;)I received my first ever text message this morning. It said "knock knock" and came from somewhere with a long phone number. I tried to send back but it wouldn't go.
The phone rang during my nap. International number. "Weird", I think, and roll over to go back to sleep. The dog has been talking to herself a lot lately and keeps waking me up, I need my bed time. Eventually I get around to picking up the voice mail.
"Hi Jen, nice message there. Right, my name is TL and hopefully Maree's gotten in touch with you. I'm in your area. I've sent a text message so just message me back or I'll try again later."
So, Maree, whom I haven't talked to in a couple years and who's really bad at emailing (if you're reading this - I'm kicking your ass next time I see you) has apparantly sent me an Australian. Is this a plot to get me to visit? Is he cute? Can I keep him?
I think I've finally worked out the texting on the phone, after 10 abortive tries, and have messaged back - "Am alive, call back" - the phone tells me this one went so putting "011" in front of the number must have done the trick.
I'm always up for entertaining people with lovely accents.
Since I've promised numerous people I will no longer bring the homeless home with me for showers, to do laundrey or get a good nights sleep - I've been resorting to buying the "Street Talk" as an alternate niceness outlet.
"Street Talk" is a newspaper produced and written by the homeless which they pay 60 cents for and then sell to us for whatever we'd like to give. There's quite a nice older fella usually over at the drug mart next door whom I usually just give my change to. After all, I see him every other day and I don't need the same paper over and over again. We used to have a different guy (a schizophrenic) but there was an article a while back that said he'd gotten his own apartment with the money he'd earned so I'm assuming he's no longer in the neighborhood.
I suppose it is fair to say that I'm encouraging the ones that work as opposed to the ones that pee on the building, sleep in the exterior stairwells and leave their listerine bottles in the walkways. Ah, the loveliness of living downtown.
e @ 7:57AM | 2004-01-11| God, I'm so sheltered! You can drink Listerine? No wonder my father used to be addicted to it, the old soak. Now what is there in Meggezone throat tablets which might fuel an addictive personality?
e @ 8:02AM | 2004-01-11| PS: "you never know what's around the corner"
Friday, January 09, 2004
soapbox
So, farmed salmon is toxic huh?TopStory1.
As I'm tucking greedily into my sirloin outside round marinated-in-wine broiled steak for dinner, I think how fabulous it is that I only paid $2 at the overpriced store beside my house.
Pausing periodically to feed some to the dog drooling on my leg, I remark, "More mad cow, honey?" and then giggle before going back to my dinner.
There was story in the paper today about the couple that owned that last cow. You know, the mad one? They'd never sold their cows before, they were award winning milk cows, you see. But the husband, after a particularly bad bout of meningitis has had 4 limbs partially amputated. Meaning he's had part of every single leg and arm he's got - cut off. And even though they'd modified his tractor he couldn't keep up with the milking. So, they sold the cows. Mad cow had a name, you know. They'd named it....Sakerviskoe. It had put food on their table.
But it was born four months before Canada and the US placed the ban on what cows were fed. In April of 1997.
TopStory2.
Far be it from me to point out that terrorists could kill you at any second, a bus could hit you first thing in the morning, that salmon could give you cancer and that cigarette you're jamming in your gate will kill you more surely than anything else , but I do feel the need to pose the following quote from Macleans for consideration....."At its height, the British mad cow crisis was discovering 1, 000 new cases a week. In North America, there have now been two isolated cases in a year." Read that again. Too lazy? Here, let me do it for you....
....."At its height, the British mad cow crisis was discovering 1, 000 new cases a week. In North America, there have now been two isolated cases in a year."
In Canada, if there's a cow that looks sick, they kill it and test it. As far as I've read, in the US, they don't. So, yeah, maybe poor little Sakerviskoe went out to market. But blame your government for that, not ours. This is destroying our livelihood. "Connecting the infected cow to Canada could deal another blow to the Canadian beef industry, which has struggled since it found its case of mad cow last May. It lost $1 million in beef trade per day as countries cut off beef imports." (article here). One million per day. For a country of 31 million and since most of the cows come from Alberta, a province of 3 million. To extrapolate....in a breakdown, I pay 33 cents a day because of two cows. I don't know about you but I bring home $1700 a month. My mortage, condo fees and property taxes take $1,000 off the top. The cow takes another $100 or so. Gee, thanks, thank god I can eat cheap beef, after I pay my bills, I'd starve to death otherwise. And, yes, Canadians do appreciate cheap meat. And, yes, we will go on in our don't-rock-the-boat tolerant fashion. But I don't think we're the ones with the mad cow problem. I think it's the rest of the world.
And I don't think it's the cows that are mad.
BUT, thank GOD, the Americans will be okay. "If U.S. and Canadian officials confirm that the sick cow in Washington state came from Canada, it might save the export market for the American beef industry because the United States could keep its disease-free status and continue trade." (article here). Because, of course, we know how important and loved the Americans are. If we want to get down to the "who you like, who you don't like" cliche from highschool, well.... the good guys finish last? Don't they? God forbid, the US tests those cows that look like they're sick. Not when we can blame it on where the cow was born, seven years ago.
It's all very well to go on and on about the "mad cows" but seriously, get over it and push your governments to test as well as Canada's does. Stop your fucking moaning and complaining and use your voice to make a change. Does anyone who eats British beef wonder if they're going to die or do you all have it in for the Canadians? Let's just sit about and watch another country die, that sounds like fun, "pass the dip will ya? Cause you know, I've always hated those damn smug war-mongering Canadians. Let's just stick it to them."
Don't get me wrong, but next time you go to a restaurant and order salmon are you going to ask if it's farmed or not?
e @ 8:18AM | 2004-01-10| Hear, hear Jen. My best guess is that poor little Sakerviskoe's ear tag was the quickest Canadian ear tag they could lay their hands on. If they are worried about the quality of their beef cattle, they should start by not feeding them shit- the US is the only first world country to my knowledge that allows manure to be put into animal feed- and all for the sake of profits- shit is cheap. I remain extermely sceptical that little Sakerviskoe or her former master had anything to do with what is blatant protectionism.
e @ 8:22AM | 2004-01-10| Also, as I understand, the cow's meat actually went into the food chain before they'd run the tests for BSE. Seems like the US is about ten years behind Britain on this one...
Jen @ 12:45PM | 2004-01-11| Scary isn't it? I never knew about feeding them manure though. Poor bastards. Humans suck.
voice mails, pants and project completes
I got a voice mail this morning from T2 (for those of you not following: VP of my company) saying: I've just had this flash of something wrong with the phone system. I think we may need to call in the phone guy. Call me if you're interested."Man, a workplace that encourages me...in matters of...lust. Maybe since they're all so young as a single girl I'm a liability with the wives. No matter, you can't beat their enthusiasm.
T1 (managing director and my boss): If we're going for beers - it's 5 to three so there's no way you'll make it to the mall, buy pants and be back in 10 to meet at the bar. I'll bet you ten bucks.
We made it there, got my pants (the ones I love - on sale still) and back in 12 minutes. 12 minutes. I lost the bet. But Lelu and I got a workout. Which she needed as she leaves for Cuba in the morning for a week of laying around, the bitch.
The project went in. NO revisions to my work. How perfect is that?
oops, dinners up.
I'll endeavor to write something tomorrow not dealing with the mundanity of my day to day life. But....
Fuck, I'm happy.
Thursday, January 08, 2004
a couple more conversations
1. during a discussion of our crappy dental planDr.B: Well, Jen, if you were to say...er...commit to something in your life, well, then you could combine their dental plan with yours and get a much better deal. As I've mentioned though, that would entail committing yourself.
me: Ahh, but that's what the phone guy is for. Do you think he's with the program?
T2 - wandering by: Oh, for Christ's sake, are we still on the bloody phone guy?
me: You're just upset cause he's cuter than you. And younger. Isn't it your 39th birthday in a couple weeks?
T2: 38. How much did you say it cost to call him in on a service call? Who's funding that?
2. over the huge project I'm just supposed to be 'helping' with
me: T1 - are you going to write those questions for the screener?
T1: I don't want to. Why don't you?
me: I don't have the experience to do that. I'm your EA.
T1: It's not hard to do.
me: But isn't that partly why you get paid roughly 8 times as much as I do?
T1: But I don't waaaaant to.
me: Neither do I!
Of course, three hours later I realize that instead of the questionnaire being due on the 19th as I'd deluded myself into thinking, it must be complete and clean by tomorrow. Right about the time he was returning to the office after his haircut and I was leaving for mine.
me: T1 - I mistakenly thought we had another week to fight about this, so since it's my fault why don't I write the questions and you can just approve them in the morning?
T1: Fabulous idea! You're great!
me: Yeah, thanks. Nice haircut by the way.
T1: Thanks! Looking forward to seeing yours in the morning!
So, now, here I will be. Writing survey questions for a national internet survey with absolutely no freaking idea of what I'm doing. On one hand, it sucks. On the other, hey, one more thing I can cite in my salary negotiations and I am touched by their faith in my intelligence.
Must try not to fuck it up.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
of course...
...there's always another point of view.Monday, January 05, 2004
book
The interesting thing about this book I'm reading (Strange Loves - The Human Aspects of Sexual Deviation, Dr. Eustace Chesser) is that it was written in 1971 and is an attempt at explaining that most aspects of human sexuality are not abnormal. I find it a bit terrifying that 23 years later, the common theme is a plea for 'tolerance and understanding.' We don't seem to have gotten very far, have we?Gripping chapters such as "The Psychology of the Prostitute" and "Pathological Sadism" are interspersed with case studies and little history lessons. Quite intriguing.
A little tidbit I found a bit ...erm...hypocritical was the fact that, historically, only four European countries treated lesbianism (as in female homosexuality) as a crime, one of them being Greece.
While being the most recognized culture of the world for homosexual (as in male homosexuality) relationships.
Go figure.
Sunday, January 04, 2004
complete strangers are going to make me fat
case in point #1 = Jamie Oliver and his bloody kitchen.case in point #2 = Labyrinthman and his Marks'n'Sparks and crepes.
See, J.O. is making me think about what I'm cooking, which you'd think would be healthy. Except for the simple fact that meals have just become more elaborate. ie: bigger.
And, labyrinthman made a comment in his lj about crepes this afternoon. Which normally wouldn't faze me in the slightest. Except he followed it up with the phrase "lemon and sugar". Which, like Pavlov and his little doggies, causes me to begin craving and salivating. I guess they are crepes but my mother called them 'english pancakes' and made them for us afterschool all the time when I was a child.
After about 12 minutes trying to find something to watch on TV to take my mind off the craving, I gave up (quite ungraciously) and went to the store. Mom always used to say the first one was garbage as you had to get used to the pan, but no, I ate that first one (wasn't bad either) and then four more. I had to force myself to put the unused batter in the fridge and stop eating.
And in the interest of forcing my hair to grow out faster past this horribly awkward stage I've begun taking biotin and shou wu pain as they are both supposed to inspire my follicles. Two days ago I actually started taking the Greens+ (that's been in the fridge for a year) to further prod them to action. I've had to decide tonight, in the light of having eaten two full meals in the space of three hours, that horrible green tasting water will be all I'm having for dinner.
I am quite pleased that a comment I made inspired a post by PornyBoy. Although, I'm not so sure about mixing the Scottish blog with the English Pancake and the Canadian winter. Could be disasterous.
