Saturday, January 17, 2004
Hey, I'm going to the symphony
Have I mentioned that lately? :)Really, it's only because I've never been before. And neither has my friend Wade.
He's an interesting guy. Scary looking, a little, one of the most gentle and nice people I know. Obsessed with Sandra Bullock. One year for his birthday I got the video store guy to get me the life size poster of "Miss Congeniality" - I think he has a room dedicated as a shrine in his house, but that could just be a rumor. We've always all likened him to Bret 'The Hitman' Hart, but I think that's mostly because he has the same hair, and not really because of any physical resemblance. Australian family. His first words this afternoon when he called were "how ya goin'?". Which frankly, never fails to throw me. How? With my legs, I don't drive. You know.
He'd been to the hockey game last night, for which it was 'Bret Hart' night and is inordinately pleased that he managed to bring home three Hart bobbleheads.
Bret Hart was/is a WWF wrestler, whose brother, Owen was killed during a wrestling stunt in 1999. The whole family, Calgarians, are involved in some way or another with the sport. Colleen and I were in the bar, which was filled with wrestlers, a few days before the funeral and being the fan she is (I outgrew it when I was, oh, 16 or so) I had to physically restrain her from accosting them. Anyways, I'm rambling, but our junior team here are called 'The Hitmen' and Bret is heavily involved, or owns them, or something.
The plan for tonight, he's stopping by just before 7 pm and we're heading over to Crush - an oft-renovated and just as frequently re-named bar at the other end of my block which I've yet to visit - for a pint, before heading to Jack Singer. He's yet to see the condo (which meant I had to clean) nor, I think, has he ever met the munchkin, although we've had many conversations about her over the years.
We'll be sitting beside T2, my VP, who went to elementary school with Bret so they should be able to have a conversation or two about that.
Then, there's a pause, and Wade says, "So, what're you wearing?"
Once we both stop laughing, I have to tell him he doesn't need to wear a suit, but that jeans will be fine. The Philharmonic is trying to get in a younger crowd. It's funny that I think of us as the 'younger crowd' considering I'm 34 and Wade is 44.
Oh, that made me think of something else. My younger half-sister goes to a high school back home called Claremont and usually I change into the logo'd trackpants she sent me at the end of the day for the power-walk home. Last week, as I wander about the halls at the end of the day, T2 shouts, "Hey, you're wearing my high school on your ass!" He's coming up on his 20th reunion and although I'd known his parents were on the island I'd never realized he'd spent part of his childhood there. I asked him if he'd ever gone to any of the parties on the reserve, to which he responded, "Of course." And he'd played rugby and knew Colleen's older brothers. How's that for weirdness? At some point, either at one of the parties or a Velox rugby 'do' we probably came across each other. Twenty years ago. Kind of makes me start thinking about the hand of fate and alternate paths in life. Or not.
Seriously, though, it's a rambly post but it's all connected. And, that's what makes me think.
at a loss for a title
Pornyboy, if you come by, your comments aren't working. I, myself, have had numerous witty things to say lately but have been unable to say them, and now I'm all out of witticisms. So, you'll just have to take my word for it.Pob, we should be able to do things 'just for fun'. I find it so sad that somehow it just doesn't work out that way. Here's hoping that all of us find our 'fun place' whether we share it or not.
Our chinook, which has brought the temp up from minus 800 million for the last 8 days or so, seems to have wandered off again. Today it is a little chillier, a grey rainy-day feeling sort of day, with little bits of snow falling here and there as if the sky is testing itself before working up a couple of good flurries. More about chinooks here.
Normally they last only two or three days but with this one being around for so long, apart from the dog and I both feeling it in our assorted bones and heads, it's had another unwelcome effect.
Her Highness' body thinks spring is here and is spontaneously shedding large amounts of fur.
I woke up this morning with a pain in my eye and after staggering towards the shower-like thing in the bathroom, paused to check it out in the mirror.
For, although my eyes have been closed for the last 11 hours, there are now two dog hairs curled about underneath my eyelid.
Poking my finger into my own eye is ill-advised first thing upon waking but as I'm leaning into the mirror, I notice out of the corner of my good eye, something on my head.
Unfortunately, my hair is still short enough to trap things and I look vaguely like I've had a bad dye job, with bits of black and grey interspersed throughout the blonde.
To make matters worse, there are also a few clumps stuck to the hair on my arms and legs.
I swear, she creeps about the bed in the early morn, wheezing maniacally, and doing her little part to make me as furry as her.
e @ 5:29PM | 2004-01-17| She's not losing her fur because of any of the medications is she? It just seems strange that she should suddenly start shedding like that. She must not have grown it all that long ago...
Jen @ 5:46PM | 2004-01-17| hmmm, I never thought of that. She's finished her antibiotics and I don't think that was one of the side effects. We did have a 40 degree change in temp though. That's gotta be enough to trick the 'ol reptile brain into thinking the winter's over.
Labyrinthman @ 6:35AM | 2004-01-24| Chinooks... without them, I would go mad! MAD I TELL YOU! Of course there are some who would say I'm mad already.
Friday, January 16, 2004
small refections
I'm tickled pink that Pob came by...erm...repeatedly. :) I miss him. It feels like forever since he's been gone - and that's not meant as condemnation of any sort, only a little bit of sadness cause I don't have his wonderful stories to look forward to lately....More than I miss Troubled Diva. I'm not positive why that is but I think that all the reasons TD gave when he left pretty much hit the nail on the head. People come to expect certain things and forcing yourself to give them what they expect comes through just like that. Forced. Not that it still wasn't entertaining and wonderful to read but you (I) could feel that. He's intelligent enough to give himself some space and I think we all understand and applaud that. And maybe, others should give Pob that same benefit of the doubt. Just a thought.
I know that there are things I don't say here. Mostly because people I know read it. And sometimes, using the blog to get things off my chest leads to a domino effect. "Was she talking about me? What a bitch." "If that's what she thinks, she should just have the balls to tell me herself." Since this is, in effect, a diary (as so pointedly stated by my older sister a few months back) then I should be able to say whatever I want to without any thought to the consequences. After all, if you choose to read my diary, well then you choose to read my diary. It is, in effect, the things I'm thinking in my head, that parallel conversation with myself that isn't shared at the time, or ever, because they are my personal thoughts. Things I need to say to myself but that don't really need to be said to anyone else. And let's not even get into the whole myriad "you just shared something that wasn't your fucking business to share in the comments" things. Cause that's what I'm doing here, talking to myself. But, even then, I don't say some of those things to myself, in public, that I'm saying to myself in my head, for the simple fact that there are things that those who know me have no right to know. And never will.
Coupled with the voyeurism of reading something written by someone you know and the tendency to apply all that is said to yourself... that sometimes leads to issues. Who are we kidding? Really?
I have a quote from someone's website that I found that I find somehow fitting, and if I found it fitting three months ago and continue to do so now...well.... before I put it in though, I have to say, I didn't note where it came from at the time so I have to apologize for that in advance....
Everything I write, even the weird 'writey' bits are based first and foremost in the truth, as are some of the blogs that I love the most. I would hate to miss what is going on in NoMoreOzone's head, what horrifying(ly funny) experience FunnyCauseIt'sShit is having today, Sassy's life-paralleling thoughts, how bedbugsandballyhoo's writing is going (and I love the way she uses her words, even in the most mundane descriptions), PurplePen's latest thoughtful essay, and I could go on... I love each blog that I read for wildly disparate reasons. First and foremost, though, I love these blogs and those others that are in my blogroll because each of those people express something that I, myself, wish I could. We all see in each other a part of ourselves that we can't or won't recognize in our own lives/words/experiences. But there's a reason that they're in the blogroll. And for me, that's it. And I hope that those who read mine find some reason to keep coming back, even after an off day, or even a boring week.
No one listens to me....and yet, I talk.
chrissykins @ 1:06AM | 2004-01-17| I read every day. :)
luckycharm @ 1:44AM | 2004-01-17| yes. and i choose to hear you.
luckycharm @ 2:07AM | 2004-01-17| my words don't come out right, what i'm trying to say is i read your words everyday too.
e @ 8:56AM | 2004-01-17| I miss Pob too *sob*
Pob @ 9:28AM | 2004-01-17| Ahh Shucks. Actually, I think that's the first time I've ever said 'shucks' - i've no idea what it means in fact. Jen, I think you've eloquently expressed what I couldn't put into words. I blame only myself for my own demise, because I didn't have a clear vision of what i wanted to do, what i wanted to write about, before I started. I really should have thought about setting some sort of 'terms of reference' at the beginning, and stuck to it. Instead I just thought 'this looks like fun' and plunged in head first. hmm...that probably sounds a bit pompous or overly serious
Pob @ 9:30AM | 2004-01-17| Ooh, and it's been a very long time since I've tickled anyone, pink or otherwise.
Blue Witch @ 4:06AM | 2004-01-18| Excellently put. Unlike this comment :)
home again
It's strep throat. I feel like I'm 15 again. What's next? mono?I had to send a warning email to everyone I work with, although I only spent three hours there yesterday, I was highly contagious. Out of the 30 people I work with, 10 have small children and strep throat has been known to completely decimate a school in three days.
Just call me Typhoid Mary.
The only thing that makes me feel better is that I've given the dog a bath and I've got those yummy orange British cough candies that whatsisname bought me last year.
e @ 6:54PM | 2004-01-16| *cough* *wheeze* *blaze* And I only read your blog, Your Contagiousness. PS: I'm not really ill; I only said that for effect. And strep throat is horrid isn't it? Poor you. It's got to be worth at least a week in bed.
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
mad cow two
It's a short one. No, really.Just reading this weeks Macleans (weekly Canadian news magazine) from my sick-chair and found an interesting tidbit about scapegoats and mad cows. For anyone not paying attention there have been two cows found with BSE from Canada since May of 2003. The latest one was the milk cow with a name that was shipped to the US, slaughtered, packaged and sent to stores. But not tested by those who noticed it looked a bit 'off' at the US slaughterhouse until after it had been processed and shipped.
The very first one, last May (and this was something I didn't know before which only adds fuel to my particular fire)...as reported in Macleans....
Interesting, no?
You see, poor Marwyn obviously never got the "Canadian grand master nefarious plan to kill the Americans one by one by relying on their inability to take responsibility for their own mistakes" memo and he almost inadvertently and innocently killed his entire (Canadian) family.
Jeez, Marwyn, you messed up the whole 'operation'. Shame on you.
bad sickie
I'm sick.I'm working from home because I have too much work to do. But I'm sick.
No fever. But I sound and feel as though my throats been torn out by a large and angry cat.
I'm not a good sick person. I can't lay around all day as that throws my back into spasms. I can't bring myself to watch daytime tv. I don't have any books to read. Hence, I'm typing very slowly to drag out the time.
I should have know something was wrong when I was in bed and sleeping by 10 pm.
I've resorted to my mother's suprisingly effective "sport sock around the neck slathered in Vicks" remedy, but that's not really attractive nor proper office attire.
I actually had a boss once that said they wouldn't mind the sock. She was Polish and also recommended slicing raw potatoes to put IN the sock.
I can just picture THAT.
It hurts to swallow.
ouch.
ouch.
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
communication issues
I'd been tasked t'other day to research the city of Houston. Oil and gas associations, the new mayor, his staff, schedules, companies that are headquartered there, stuff like that. There is quite a nice website for the new mayor but as he was only sworn in a week or so ago, quite a lot of it is under construction. I needed a bio. After a frustrating hour of finding nothing with any search combination I attempted, I decided to just call them.After explaining to the nice lady what I was looking for, she put me through to the "Communication Officer". Whose phone rang and rang and which I then let ring some more in case they had an awfully long set time on the voice mail. Nope.
Went to a meeting. Came back. Tried again. Waited. Tried again. Waited some more. Again. Did some other stuff. Yet again.
Nothing.
Finally, I just asked the nice lady at the front if the communications officer had voice mail.
"Which one?" She asked.
"There's more than one?"
"Well, there's five. Which one have you been calling?"
"Whichever one you've been putting me through to."
"They don't have voice mail."
So, the five Communications Officers for the city of Houston don't have voice mail.
Made me wonder what exactly they are trying to communicate.
Monday, January 12, 2004
Angels
If you're not catching HBO's remake of this Broadway play for the small screen, you're missing out.In Canada it's currently playing on Movie Central. Of course, on Movie Central you've missed the first three hours already. But, honestly, it's a beautiful thing. Three hours, no commercials, both my legs fell asleep, the bathroom flooded and the dog robbed a bank and I didn't even notice. Entrancing.
The scene at the end of the first play, when the angel comes crashing through the ceiling into Prior's sickroom, is one of the most dazzling dramatic spectacles ever staged. Every situation is seen from at least two different, and often conflicting perspectives. Characters in the play struggle to find meaning in a world apparently abandoned by God. Some deny, reject, and fail, but the strong ones break free or find their meaning in compassion and commitment to others.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
just so ya know
The quote section usually reflects something I'm feeling at the time I post it there. And, as a general indication of whatever end of the mood swing I'm currently on - it's not bad. But I've gotten a bit tired of hunting them down.So, for the next little while, they will all be quotes from a lovely little book I've got entitled Today I Will Nourish My Inner Martyr - Affirmations for Cynics. Here's hoping you'll enjoy them as much as I do.
new twist on the wireless service
So, it occured to me this morning that my text message would require a city routing code as well as the international dialing code. Makes sense, right? I thought I would call my service provider (who shall remain as nameless as they are faceless) but the customer service people don't work on weekends.Then I tried to call an operator. I can't.
Dialling zero takes me back to those people who don't work on the weekends.
I can't dial directory assistance because they will only provide North American numbers and I can't get one of them to transfer me cause it's basically an automated system.
The text message came with 11 digits. As far as I know, Australia has 10. Plus, I don't know if he's from Perth or Sydney or somewhere else.
I'm in an endless loop I can't get out of.
And he probably thinks I'm horribly rude.
For some reason, my pop-up blocker thinks everything is an ad. Like opening my explorer. Can a program be an idiot?
One day, on my way to work I stopped at the drug mart to pick up some cigarettes. The people in front of me were a couple of the residence-less and the little person behind the counter (all of 3 foot 4) was quite taking them to task as she'd told them before she would no longer sell them ...Listerine. There's a liquor store right across the street but it doesn't open till 11 am or so. I guess the alcohol content is high but seriously, that shit can't be good for you to ingest.
I've never heard of those cough drops though.
