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..
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?
