Saturday, February 12, 2005
Excuse Me, Is This The Way To The Twilight Zone?
Today was a weird day about which I have only two things to say.I just finished watching Garden State and it's a great movie.
I think, though, that if you were really my friends you would have warned me that in the ending, the perfect boy gets off the plane and comes back for her.
I don't need to be seeing that kind of stuff. I'm just saying.
And, at some point this afternoon I found myself staring at myself in the 'hall' mirror and wondering why it sometimes feels like if we were to do something completely drastic and strange, then everything in our world will just magically right itself. Like the drastic thing would be the catalyst to everything around you changing. Have you ever had that feeling? Is it just me?
I eventually decided, however, that I wouldn't give in to the urge to lay out the scissors, soap and a couple of Lady Bics so I could shave my head.
At least, not today.
lyric at post:
..drink up baby down.
mmm, are you in or are you out?..
Purely Coincidental
A Poem
Looking for a poem today since I am about to wander off into the sunshine, I came across the following, written in the early 60's, by one of our Canadian greats, Al Purdy. And, honest, I just turned the page and there it was...neat little twist and all.Homo Canadensis
I didn't know him
but thought somebody else did,
for everyone was friendly in that bar
except this guy in the red checked shirt:
he was aggressive and pro-Canadian,
stubbing a Players outside the ashtray
swaying in his chair and gulping beer
like water
drunk and getting drunker ---
"Best beer in the world," he said.
"Bout the only thing left that's really Canadian."
And glared ut as.
"Did you know that 60% of Canadian industry
is American owned?
They callem American shubshidyaries--"
Everyone laughed when he stumbled over the word,
and he slapped his hand hard on the table,
"Don't laugh!" he said.
"Okay, I been drinkin, I like to drink.
But don't laugh when you see this country
TAKEN OVER
just sort of casually
like an afterthought, like a burp after dinner --"
"So what?" somebody said.
Everybody here knows we'll belong to the States
in another 10 years ..."
The guy swelled up like a sneering bullfrog,
"And guys like you deserve to be taken over.
But when you are you'll be 2nd class Americans,
like Negroes in the south, like Indians here -
You'll be 2nd class Americans because
you were never 1st class Canadians in the first place --"
Everybody stiffened.
"Okay," he said,
"I'll buy the beer and shut up."
But after a few seconds he couldn't keep quiet.
"Anybody ever hear of the San Juan Islands?
No, I guess not. Well, Canada got gypped there.
Anybody know about the Alaska Panhandle deal,
or remember the Herbert Norman case, by any chance?
Well, I'm tellin you, this country is being taken
like a glass of beer. It's a matter of economics.
And none of you guys really gives a damn,
Just slop your beer and wait to be taken
by some big bellied American in Washington.
And I'm tellin you, they're all greedy bastards-!"
"I like Americans." someone said mildly,
and it seemed just by chance his arm lifted,
meeting checked shirt's arm in the middle of the table.
That was all it needed:
"Okay, loud mouth, let's see you put me down!"
They call it "arm wrestling" some places:
and the yellow beer jiggled as clasped hands
pushed on elbow fulcrum - everyone watching
The guy in the checked shirt was drunk
and the other guy more or less sober,
so it shouldn't have been much of a contest.
Their arms strained like two-thirds of a tripod,
and checked shirt put on the pressure,
"I'm tellin you they're bastards-!"
The other guy was big but he collapsed quick,
knocking over a glass of beer and the salt shaker.
"Just shows you," checked shirt said,
looking around the table. He started to go.
"I gotta be gettin back. Be seein ya-"
"You been huntin?" somebody asked.
"That's right, up near Bancroft. Takin back a nice buck."
"Where ya from?
Checked shirt grinned.
"New York," he said.
Al Purdy
fr: 'The Cariboo Horses.'
Friday, February 11, 2005
Please Don't Hurt Me, I'll Be a Better Canadian, I Promise..
You know that you're getting to know individual Americans waaaaay too well when you find you can only watch one of Canada's highest viewer draw shows, Talking to Americans, for fifteen minutes before you start feeling kind of disgusted and choose to turn it off.I couldn't link to the right spot in another explanatory post and so am excerpting most of it below (with some links added by me to help out with the less obvious things - just in case):
The idea behind the segment is really stunningly simple. A man (Rick Mercer) with a microphone goes to someplace in the States and talks to people. The point: find out what we can make Americans believe.
A typical segment will have Rick Mercer stopping people and asking them questions such as, “Have you heard that Canada has just legalized staplers?” Or, “Can you tell me what’s on the Canadian flag?” (Answers: a beaver, a hockey symbol, some sort of leaf thing or something, it’s the Union Jack, Canada has a flag?) Or, “What do you think about Canada getting a navy, considering that we do not have access to the ocean?” (note: we have the longest shoreline in the world) Or, “Great news! Canada finally has running water/electricity/indoor toilets?”
The greatest thing is that not only are everyday people on the street horribly gullible, but this guy can get major American politicians on camera saying incredibly stupid things. The newly elected President George W. Bush was pleased that Canadian Prime Minister Jean Poutine had sent his congratulations. The first governor that he got on camera was the governor of Arkansas. The governor sent his encouragement to the Canadians who were valiantly trying to save our igloo parliament buildings (which were exact ice replicas of the ones in Arkansas) from melting by encasing the whole lot in a gigantic dome.
But not only does Rick Mercer talk to major politicians and people on the street, but to professors at places like Harvard and Yale. These supposedly knowledgeable people look like idiots in a very short matter of time.
The note above is about a previous show, but you get the point When will Russia stop bombing Chechnya and Saskatchewan? Should we send the troops in if ..... threatens to bomb the mall in West Edmonton? Did you know Canada just legalized insulin! Built their first University! Can't figure out what to name the season that lasts all July and August and just makes the whole country dark! (Canadark won that one). Although, one guy said, "Call it the Montreal Canadiens." Which was funny as hell.
And I have to admit, Rick comes up with some pretty funny scenarios and he's an admirable comedian but..back when I was 12... I spent a couple weeks in Oregon convincing the schoolkids in our host city of Corvallis that up here left was right and right was left and that we didn't know what swimming was but called what they seemed to be describing frolicking.
Believe you me, it got old pretty damn quick.
And, again, I was twelve. I'm a fan of good humor as much as the next guy but there is a fine line between humor and "FUCK, YOU'RE A MORON!! ON NATIONAL TV! OH, WASSA MATTA, YA BIG BABY, CAN'T YA TAKE A JOKE?"
Has anyone learnt that making other people look ignorant and stupid isn't humor but juvenile cruelty? That people who are embarrassed like that tend to hold grudges and will hurt you as soon as they have the chance? How do we know that George didn't hate Canada for four years and take three years to thank us for helping out during 9/11 because we made him look like a COMPLETE ASS all across the country. Do you think no one noticed? No one told him? No one played the clip for him and 800 of his closest advisors? Repeatedly?
Who's fault is it that Canadians are taught about the US and vice NOT versa? Who really cares about those polite northern nobodies? How much time do Americans spend picking on us? I doubt it's very much. We never make a fuss so there's no reason to know anything about us. The US does and so we ALL know something about it. Maybe that's a good strategy, know it but don't be nice or get too close to it - someone may notice, and maybe with the US being the main target these days, that will save our country, or maybe, it will be our doom.
Even if we changed our minds, it's a bit late NOW, don't you think? Or is it?
I've got enough to worry about, enough horror and sadness to overcome and enough desire to live a happy and tolerant life where I follow my dreams while not crushing anyone else's. My days are pretty full, thanks, cause sometimes it takes everything I have inside of me to treat people the way I want them to treat me.
This may be horribly unpatriotic but I'm not willing to die for anyone's country. Not even my own.
And maybe, I've just talked myself right around and into a little bit of pride of self for turning the TV off. Maybe you think this reaction is a bit extreme for a simple little comedy show. Regardless of it's popularity, --in 2001, Rick made Canadian television history by creating and co-producing the one-hour CBC special Rick Mercer's Talking to Americans, which attracted 2.7 million viewers across the country making it the highest rated comedy special in the history of the CBC--
But, small things sometimes have big consequences and sometimes I think about these things, as I think we all should.
Oh, shit, I think hear the men in black knocking on the door, I'll see you guys after the 'debriefing'. Pray for me.
Heyyyy, Nice Package
I just received a bunch of information from Earthwatch and it came wrapped in a large plastic bag. Exciting, hey?Okay, so my point is - the bag was added by the post office and on it there is a notice which says...
The enclosed item of mail was either received in this condition or damaged during it's processing. We sincerely regret this unfortunate incident and any incovenience caused.
We are always concerned when mail entrusted to our care is damaged, and we have made considerable improvements to reduce such incidents in our operations.
The Post Office takes a lot of heat these days, even with reduced mail volume, and they do a pretty decent job of it, really, when you think about it. Which is why I'm not too arsed about damage.
Except, it's a little strange because my package was actually slit open neatly. Just sort of like someone wanted to read it.
What a strange type of damage, don't you think?
Equally disconcerting but no more understandable is finally receiving my offer package from work. Except it contains no offer letter. Some nifty benefits and a union card I have to sign because I am, apparantly, now "a regular employee". Strange that, I don't even know how much I make. Or when my vacation is. Or even how much vacation I get. Sick time?
Do you think it's possible they 'just forgot' to officially ask me to be an employee?
No word on the mortgaging front either.
And yes, I woke up without hot water again. It's not so much being without it, it doesn't piss me off - well, it does but only for a minute because there's no one really to be mad at. It's the waking up at 5:30 am and laying in bed and anticipating a hot shower and...then.not.getting.it.
Thank god it's finally the weekend and I can spend it alone. Alone. Alone. Recovering my sense of humor and regrouping for another week.
There is a bike auction at the firehall tomorrow (all those crack-addict kids they've confiscated stolen bikes from or something) and I want a bike. Except I am not yet in a position to spend money. Cause I don't yet have any. And since my high school sweetheart is a fireman at that station I think I may skip it.
It's just such a dilemma - maybe I'll be so STINKY I'll get a free shower from the firehoses (ooohhh, imagine the water pressure though, sheer heaven!) or there really is a reason the HSS (high-school sweetheart) is not showing up for drinks with the rest of us and it's absolutely heartless of me to show up at his work.....
Always that six-of-one, half-a-dozen of the other, hey?
lyric at post:
..if I hear you knocking hard up on my door
ain't no way that I`m gonna answer it..
Thursday, February 10, 2005
I'm Just So.... Blank, Today
So, instead, I have some words found, courtesy of the lovely Diana.1.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost .... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
2.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend that I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
3.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit ...
but, my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
4.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
5.
I walk down another street.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Equilibrium is a Tricky Thing
Seriously, I'm trying to stop with the big honking posts, I am. I just (as usual) have too much to say.Today was one of those days where absolutely everything went wrong - right from the get-go. It's saving grace may have just been that it wasn't only me that couldn't metaphorically take two steps without tripping over an invisible lump in the linoleum like a complete asswipe, it was everyone else too. That's unusual. Unusual enough to be treasured, at least while I wasn't angry as all get out.
I get those horoscope thingys delivered, I'm slightly ashamed to admit, every evening about 11 pm for the next day. This one for today, however, showed up, 12 hours late, at 10:52 am. Scant minutes after my new job drove me to tears of frustration and sheer and utter rage for the first time.
It may be hard for you to get a handle on things today, JENNIFER, as your focus seems to jump from one subject to the next without finding any resolution from the first. Today is not a day to find a solution. You are better off researching, asking questions, and gathering facts. Keep your channels of communication open and don't try to pin anyone down for a solid answer. You will accomplish a great deal by keeping things active and light.
I don't know about active and light but I did a lot of questioning. You see, my job is extremely complicated and convoluted and chock full of 'exception to the rules'. I've learnt lightning fast and so they have begun to assume I know what I'm doing. HO HO, NOT SO. On any given order, I'm missing one crucial piece of information that someone has just forgotten to mention and I don't know enough to be asking about. Up until this morning, it was nothing that I couldn't talk my way out of.
But, in my more rational not knee-jerk analysis - everyone's busy, everyone's stressed, they all had a tougher time in the beginning than I'm having due to the circumstances at the time and I need to breathe a little and cut them some slack. I'm good with that (well, after the first hour of utter spaz, until I calm down - although I've been getting better with that). I understand. Even though it's my ass hanging out there in the wind.
Let's just take a sec though, to consider the following - the girl who's been there for 7 years cried every night for the first year, the girl who's been there for two, every night for the first 6 months AND due to a union issue I make exactly the same amount of money as they do. Both of them. In fact, as a contractor, since I started in November, I've been making $2.50 an hour MORE. (So, really, it took 2 and a half months to make me cry, I should be proud of that.) Plus, it's five women. Picture that, just for a moment. No worries, I'll wait.
Five women. Too much work. Some serious addition of one, two, three, four, five interaction scenarios. (I saw an analysis of the breakdown of a group in low numbers that I so have to find to back that part up - so scary, so true)
You're afraid, yes? Palms all sweaty?
But wait - I'm the youngest of the four 'older' (in experience AND years) remaining members, ack! Add two who are in the middle of menopause. Blend in one whose husband is dying of bone cancer.
My shit's nothing compared to the collective problems of my department. With everything else that's been going on since November, I'll bet you're as suprised as me that they've asked me to become permanent.
Or maybe, I just fit right in.
side note: you know, sometimes I'm utterly floored that we function as well as we do - have blogs helped that? helped people to deal, talk about it and move on? Or ultimately do they make it something we continue to just carry around but in a more permanent way? I think we'd all say that it depends upon the person - a 'case by case' basis, but there MUST be a general consensus - if not among the press, at least among bloggers like me who 'write their lives' as opposed to those who 'make up' a life or don't mention their real life at all.
It would have been nice, however, today, if someone had taken up the mantle of leadership and made the call I should not have been the one to make. And cry during.
I can say *that* for the simple fact that once upon a time I did that. It was my job to protect and back up my staff, to take the heat, to handle the big stuff so they could get the work done. And I did it. I didn't like it sometimes but I was in a position to calm people who couldn't be calmed, to offer things the staff couldn't offer, to carry a title the staff didn't have the inherent authority of. It would be nice to expect the same in return, no matter how much stress everyone's under. Even if it's the simple fact that I'm the new freakin' employee.
I'm just saying.
You guys missed something because I've been sobbing and carrying a kleenex in my jumper sleeve since you met me, but I battled and survived the big C there without telling mostly anyone and with a small amount of tears - as well as many other things in my life. This year, I don't know, I lost the dog and even at the mere thought of losing her, I became a vale of tears. That has continued and been reinforced by the stress of the last few months and I can only now, after more than a year, see the end of this tunnel of tears. I think that in a big way, today reinforced that feeling.
And, as I said before, maybe the blog is attractive in it's ability to drag it out. Although I don't see it that way, most of the time.
Anyways, my day didn't get much better after that and was topped off, finally, by the Tour funding going tits-up due to a "won't negotiate on a property less than 800 square feet."
Since I own a large one-bedroom, I wonder what the population of cities like Toronto and Vancouver do, when most of their real estate is outrageous and small.
My condo is 655 sq feet. But I also own a separate title to a parking spot (gold in downtown, yes?) which is 156 square feet. They didn't count it and we're not sure if it's because it was missed or if it was because they DON'T count it.
Another day. Wait. ooooh, nope. Wait.
It was one of those days that, coming home, joking about having 'mad cow' for dinner - wouldn't have surprised me if tomorrow I woke up with a fever and the stark raving even-more-nutbar hallucinations.
However, the hot water heater is fixed !!! Yes!!!! A week - no hot water. I'm drooling. But that's okay! I have hot water!
I took the cat down to the beach. I miss my dog -ergo, the cat's gonna need to learn to go for walks. Especially since he's been kicking the shit out of the cats in the 'hood. No one is more shocked than me since even the feared and loathed nail clipping has never resulted in 'claw' mode. Ever.
The beach, close to my house. The beach. Ahhhhhh.
It was a beautiful day and nothing felt so good as walking out of the building and cranking the Betsy-stereo all the way home.
I'm having a glass of wine right now. Finishing this post. Ignoring possible sad / frustrating-making emails from M2, who's been asked to PFO. Having a shower. A long, hot shower. Watching LOST!
Then, maybe, if I have any energy left at all, I may go out and tip a cow. Not because it's actually possible (no matter how funny the concept) but because I live in a place where I wake up in the morning to cows MOOOING, donkeys HEEHAWING, crows CAWING to defend their territory (the landlady feeds them - they're good watchdogs), roosters CROWING, that bloody great bullfrog CROAKING, my cat SNORING in my face while sheep stand right underneath my bed and express their extreme displeasure at the dawn.
It's all in the balance, kids.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
...And Brilliant 'Nessa
Malcolm Lowry week became a kind of guessing game, with Vanessa coming up with a concept that I'd not thought of - a line from each poem to tell my story.Not suprisingly, the end result is utter brilliance and must be immortalized. (i've added punctuation ...apologies, but it's the *flow* of the thing)
Malcolmstein's Monster:
There is no path, there is no path at all.
A loom of fate
for hope which never ventured up so high
as life's deception,
and yet this evening is my jail.
Strangely unkind
seem all new landmarks of the now and here,
crowded with holiday makers
is the past ----
help me to write.
Etymology: French chaudière kettle, contents of a kettle, from
One of the things that I had introduced Matt to - along with flights in Cessnas, fine tequila, how to make scrambled eggs, facials, manicures, and tons of other amazing things that should have enriched his life - was New England Clam Chowder.Mundane, I know. But he insisted that he'd never seen it before, couldn't get it in Aus and even further, absolutely loved it and would be sad that he couldn't have it any more.
A couple weeks ago, whilst grocery shopping, I bought some to ship out to Aus for him.
Today I took it to work and ate it for lunch.
Make of that what you will.
lyric at post:
..I took a ride to meet the enemy to end all the madness
and now i know that I'll be fine..
Short & Snappy Drive-By Post #15
Such a Smart Little Boy
I'm sorry, but this absolutely killed me. *snort* *tee hee* *giggle* lyric at post:
..we stayed in the bars along Charing Cross Road
we never saw nothin' but brass taps and oak
kept a shine on the bar with the sleeves of our coats..
Monday, February 07, 2005
What Price, Vanity?
A couple of years ago I'd started sort of poking about looking for information on how to get rid of the spider veins on my face. It's not an aging thing with me - I've had them since I was 19 or so. It's hereditary. I have that 'British skin' of my mothers, etc, etc. It's never gotten any worse over the years but I always figured it would be nice to get rid of them someday.It's not a huge issue and about as noticeable when I have a tan as when I don't. They make me look a little like I have a mask on, but whatever, yanno? Rosy cheeked girl.
It makes me look healthy. Or like I'm Consumptive and one of the chic ill. Frankly, it's a toss-up as to which I care about less.
One of the girls I work with went in to have a consultation about having her brown spots removed (like my raccoon patches, - which are fading despite the fact I forget the cream at least 75% of the time - except her doctor told her the bleaching cream was 'unstable' and she needed lasers).
I figured, hey whatthehell, it's a half hour off work. In the "Laser Centre", I 'consulted' with a nurse. Not the doctor - you don't get to see him until he comes in to roast your skin off.
(I know, I know, it's pulses of light, but I appreciate the imagery much better when using words like fry and scorch and PEEL).
The nurse shows me pictures of all the staff. Cause, yanno, they're 'updating the books' although what this means, I am quite unsure of.
Now, of course the staff have all been broiled because, unlike hairdressers who seem to be allowed to have terrible fucking hair, they need to look good to the patients coming in.
I explained to the nurse that I'd like to have the one inch by one inch area (see below, bad pic but the best I've got) containing the spider veins lasered and that was all I was interested in.
(You mean the little stress-related and perfectly reasonable blackheads punctuated by that one pimple caused by my - sorry boys - period?)
"And what about all those large pores? she continues....
Not taking no for an answer she proceeded to recommend that they sear off ALL the skin on my face. Minimum FIVE treatments, once every three weeks.
It's only $2,300 plus GST (7% goods and services 'just-for-a-couple-years' tax they introduced in Canada in 1997)
No LADY, just tell me how much it is for the veins.
$750.00 plus GST.
But that's just one session. They're pretty severe (???) so you'll probably need TWO.
Good news though. The second session is only $375.00 plus GST.
So, $1203.75
You're actually better off to get your whole face charred for less than double. And yeah, the nurses look great but I'm thinking they get a discount as well as 'you're too ugly we may have to fire you' threats around the coffee machine.
Now, don't get me wrong - lasers are amazing and we are thankful for the people who operate them. But we're on the Island of Dr. Moreau here. OH, I MEAN, the Island of the Massive Mark-Up. My apologies.
Two years ago, I called the place down the street from me in Calgary, to check up on the very same thing. It was $250 a session. (ie: two sessions, if needed, $535.)
Expressing my dismay at the horrific arrogance of these people, I was gently informed by my coworkers that I'd been spoiled by living in the big city and that things were cheaper there to compensate for the cold cold winters.
Spoiled? Compensation for winter?
Who are you, where are we going and how the fuck did I get in this handbasket with you?
And in the 'forewarned is forearmed' category, tomorrow is the day I find out if the funding for Airborne Pathojen Tour 2006™ comes through. I'm not sure how many more hits I can take right now so keep your fingers crossed. As well as any other flexible parts of your body (but I don't want to know, thanks)
lyric at post:
..there may not
be another way to your heart..
Monday Bumper Sticker #6
The opposite of love is, I think, indifference. But....
anyways, shall we?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Past the 5' Mark - Into the Shallow End of the Pool
On friday night I dreamed that the landlords were building a pool. Last night I dreamt that I had one at my posh house, where Peter Gallagher was my dad and I missed the family dinner at my sister's because I was having sex with Ben Mackenzie.I watch too much TV.
Anyways, dandy dream guide tells me swimming pools are:
It's 8 pm and I'm exhausted, as well as chilled -continuing to be hot water free and so I'm going to hit the featherbed. 'night.
lyric at post:
..and liberty she pirouette
when I think that I am free..
