Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Sunday, February 01, 2015
Friday, October 11, 2013
recalcitrant
I'm sorry. I have been completely terrible about upkeeping my corner of cyberspace. I have at least three movie reviews, four Great Lakes posts, and a work update. Jeepers. I promise to try and catch up before the month is out. Poppets, forgive me.
Enjoy this in my stead. it has brought me hours and hours of joy. Thanks Oatmeal:
Enjoy this in my stead. it has brought me hours and hours of joy. Thanks Oatmeal:
Monday, July 15, 2013
Birthday Weekend(tm): The Jesus Year
 | |
| Amul Butter Girl, who bears a distinct resemblance to me... |
Friday night was to be spent dancing at Velvet Underground to DJ Bingo Bob. But Velvet was playing what I can only classify as Italian hip-hip. Many would disagree, but I’m not a genre specialist. Then we went to Bovine, but there was a band there that didn’t sound like they were worth the $10 cover charge. Next up, under advisement from LilBro, was Hideout. $7 to get in there… okay. Also band, covering oldies (Beatles, etc.). Finally, Tattoo Rock Parlour, where knowing the bouncer meant skipping the line and the cover. Honestly? Friday night on Queen West has changed and left me out. I guess I really getting old. Still, clambered home around 0330, not bad.
Saturday was spent on a deliciously pulled-out couch, watching two weeks worth of TV and eating junk food. Breakfast in bed, Greek lunch delivery… all good. Saturnight we had reservations at the 360, the revolving restaurant atop the CN Tower. Tried to convince Jadek that we should have done the Edge Walk too, but he was having none of it. Dinner was divine and we spent a very warm evening strolling the deck three hundred metres above ground. A soft-serve ice cream from a truck capped off that delicious day.
Sunday was brunch at Victoria’s in the King Edward Hotel. It was everything I remembered and then some. If you haven’t been, I suggest you go, at least once. It’s worth every penny: the food is varied and fantastic, the service is impeccable, the atmosphere is rich…just excellent. What made it more special was the company I kept while there. After that, Jadek and I took in The Lone Ranger; it was POURING when we exited, so we killed some time in Chapters.
That night, I went to my parents’ for dinner, takeout from my favourite Chinese restaurant: Eddie’s Wok ‘n’ Roll. They bought me not one, not two, but THREE dresses from NYC, all of which fit perfectly. And since I had taken Monday and Tuesday off, I was able to extend that birthday feeling all week by wearing a new dress every day. Fabulous!
On Monday, of course, we were hit by that incredible deluge. While I know that the world doesn’t revolve around me, it does seem very suspicious that on the back of my miraculous birthday, we get a Noah-like flood. On Tuesday they called for hail (which, thankfully, did not come to pass). If I see frogs, poppets, I’m calling in the Apocalypse!
It was a wonderful and eventful start to my mid-thirties. I am always amazed by indulgences of friends who allow for my birthday to be extended for days and days (and days!)...I look forward to what comes next.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
expectations
I have, what some polite people may call, an eclectic family. Actually, I have, what I call, a crazy family. And just when I think I’ve come to grips with my history, something happens to blow my mind. Way more on that later.
I took a four-day jaunt to visit my family in NYC. Yes, four days. I actually don’t like visiting that particular branch, but not for the reasons you may think**. They’re gregarious, funny, honest, and totally down-to-earth. I have spent many a hour on the phone with my Aunt, in stitches from her daily commentary on life. She can’t get through a sentence without swearing – and the kind of swearing that would put a sailor to shame. I learned so many interesting ways to cuss while in her home. Her youngest son is only a month younger than me: when we were growing up, we were inseparable. We played Thundercats with such vigour that we broke beds, bones, and boundaries with equal panache. He’s now about to be a father, something I can’t even begin to fathom. My Aunt’s only daughter – whom they always just called Daughter (even in Christmas cards) – is pretty much a loser. She abandoned her two eldest children almost ten years ago. My niece and nephew, whose father is an equal deadbeat, were brought up by their uncles and grandmother. They had a hard childhood and I always worried for them – this was the branch where no one had even finished high school, forget college. (The boys all landed on their feet, they work crushing hours to make a decent living.) The elder, my nephew, dropped out of high school. No surprise. I am very happy to report that he wrote, and passed, his GED. He’s a talented boy, a tattoo artist and skateboard designer – but works in a Manhattan kitchen. The younger, my niece, graduated this June. With Honours. Scholarships to schools. Of course, I had to be there to see her get that diploma. Not just me, but my whole immediate family. So, no option for a hotel. Stayed we did.
It was a lovely ceremony (all the way out in Long Island!), staged in a huge gymnasium for only about 150 kids (but at least 2000 family members). Graduation is a big deal there. For this school especially, which had gotten used to a 65% graduation rate before becoming chartered. This year, they boasted an impressive 95% graduation rate, with almost 80% of those kids getting some sort of scholarship. Wow. Her future was bright indeed.
Was.
You see, on the surface, this is a feel-good story. Fighting the odds to be the first high school graduate in her family – with honours in health sciences, no less – surely she would be fine. But the truth is, this is a story about family values. A story about the importance of caring parents, strong role models (both mom and dad) and the absolute need for boundaries. Sure, I’ve gotten into my fair share of mischief. Who hasn’t. But I had a strong dad, one with a steely grip on my freedoms – just enough slack to explore but yanked back real quick when something untoward was happening. Like, when I had a boy in my room and I had closed the door. Never mind that he was my gay best friend, that we were sitting at the desk using the computer – that was the end of that. Or how about when I got a henna tattoo on my arm at Canada Day; even after I showed him it was washable, he wasn’t happy until it had all come off. My mom said it best: you had a strict dad and you didn’t really need one. My niece does. But it’s hard to be strict when you work 60 hours a week and are only about ten years older. Even harder when you don’t live under the same roof. And my Aunt? Well, she was never much for discipline anyway.
So now, my niece, whose boyfriend has been sharing her bed for a month, has decided to defer her education (and lose her scholarships). She’s decided to work as a cashier in the same Manhattan eatery as her brother. When Dad tried to turf her boyfriend on behalf on my Aunt, my niece left the house and wasn’t heard from until she knew my parents (namely, my strict Dad) was gone. I’ll give them this – no one ever talks back to my Dad. He has a lot of authority. He’s that guy, you know? Boy, did she need that guy growing up.
I had wanted to help plan her first year away from home, make lists of things she’d need, talk about my own dorm experience and what she could expect. I wanted to take her shopping in Manhattan – just the girls – and make a day of it. I guess I had her frozen in my mind as that sweet nine-year-old who was so starved for affection, that she literally clung to me the minute I walked in; who asked quietly if she could sleep with me on the tiny twin bed; who delighted in berry-flavoured sparkly chapstick. That was my mistake. Turns out, she’s stubborn, rude, and dismissive – typical teenaged stuff that’s easily addressed by good parenting. This is what happens when you don’t have parents looking out for you.
Who would have thought a family trip to NYC would become a morality play?
**Why don’t I like visiting? In short – they’re slobs. I’ve never been in a house that filthy. And I genuinely think they try but actually have no concept of clean. I’m a finicky person and thus entirely uncomfortable staying there overnight. I’ve been to NYC many times, and am happy to take the E train to Jamaica-VanWyck for a visit. That’s about all I can handle.
I took a four-day jaunt to visit my family in NYC. Yes, four days. I actually don’t like visiting that particular branch, but not for the reasons you may think**. They’re gregarious, funny, honest, and totally down-to-earth. I have spent many a hour on the phone with my Aunt, in stitches from her daily commentary on life. She can’t get through a sentence without swearing – and the kind of swearing that would put a sailor to shame. I learned so many interesting ways to cuss while in her home. Her youngest son is only a month younger than me: when we were growing up, we were inseparable. We played Thundercats with such vigour that we broke beds, bones, and boundaries with equal panache. He’s now about to be a father, something I can’t even begin to fathom. My Aunt’s only daughter – whom they always just called Daughter (even in Christmas cards) – is pretty much a loser. She abandoned her two eldest children almost ten years ago. My niece and nephew, whose father is an equal deadbeat, were brought up by their uncles and grandmother. They had a hard childhood and I always worried for them – this was the branch where no one had even finished high school, forget college. (The boys all landed on their feet, they work crushing hours to make a decent living.) The elder, my nephew, dropped out of high school. No surprise. I am very happy to report that he wrote, and passed, his GED. He’s a talented boy, a tattoo artist and skateboard designer – but works in a Manhattan kitchen. The younger, my niece, graduated this June. With Honours. Scholarships to schools. Of course, I had to be there to see her get that diploma. Not just me, but my whole immediate family. So, no option for a hotel. Stayed we did.
It was a lovely ceremony (all the way out in Long Island!), staged in a huge gymnasium for only about 150 kids (but at least 2000 family members). Graduation is a big deal there. For this school especially, which had gotten used to a 65% graduation rate before becoming chartered. This year, they boasted an impressive 95% graduation rate, with almost 80% of those kids getting some sort of scholarship. Wow. Her future was bright indeed.
Was.
You see, on the surface, this is a feel-good story. Fighting the odds to be the first high school graduate in her family – with honours in health sciences, no less – surely she would be fine. But the truth is, this is a story about family values. A story about the importance of caring parents, strong role models (both mom and dad) and the absolute need for boundaries. Sure, I’ve gotten into my fair share of mischief. Who hasn’t. But I had a strong dad, one with a steely grip on my freedoms – just enough slack to explore but yanked back real quick when something untoward was happening. Like, when I had a boy in my room and I had closed the door. Never mind that he was my gay best friend, that we were sitting at the desk using the computer – that was the end of that. Or how about when I got a henna tattoo on my arm at Canada Day; even after I showed him it was washable, he wasn’t happy until it had all come off. My mom said it best: you had a strict dad and you didn’t really need one. My niece does. But it’s hard to be strict when you work 60 hours a week and are only about ten years older. Even harder when you don’t live under the same roof. And my Aunt? Well, she was never much for discipline anyway.
So now, my niece, whose boyfriend has been sharing her bed for a month, has decided to defer her education (and lose her scholarships). She’s decided to work as a cashier in the same Manhattan eatery as her brother. When Dad tried to turf her boyfriend on behalf on my Aunt, my niece left the house and wasn’t heard from until she knew my parents (namely, my strict Dad) was gone. I’ll give them this – no one ever talks back to my Dad. He has a lot of authority. He’s that guy, you know? Boy, did she need that guy growing up.
I had wanted to help plan her first year away from home, make lists of things she’d need, talk about my own dorm experience and what she could expect. I wanted to take her shopping in Manhattan – just the girls – and make a day of it. I guess I had her frozen in my mind as that sweet nine-year-old who was so starved for affection, that she literally clung to me the minute I walked in; who asked quietly if she could sleep with me on the tiny twin bed; who delighted in berry-flavoured sparkly chapstick. That was my mistake. Turns out, she’s stubborn, rude, and dismissive – typical teenaged stuff that’s easily addressed by good parenting. This is what happens when you don’t have parents looking out for you.
Who would have thought a family trip to NYC would become a morality play?
**Why don’t I like visiting? In short – they’re slobs. I’ve never been in a house that filthy. And I genuinely think they try but actually have no concept of clean. I’m a finicky person and thus entirely uncomfortable staying there overnight. I’ve been to NYC many times, and am happy to take the E train to Jamaica-VanWyck for a visit. That’s about all I can handle.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
flash flood
 |
| news.nationalpost.com - |
On July 8, the western part of the GTA experienced an average of 120 mm of rain. In one hour. Needless to say, it was a disaster. I was lucky to be spared the worst of it, only having to resort to garbage bag-clad leggings and clever driving to rescue my car from my flooded garage. The white Porsche I share a lane with was not so lucky – he was buried mirror-deep in muddy water.
This, of course, on the back of the Calgary-area flooding. Some time ago, I ranted about the idiocy of humans and the inability of some to acknowledge the obvious. I mean, if there is retributive karma in the universe, surely it was that macabre sense of humour that flooded Stephen Harper’s riding in Calgary. In fact, I’m sure he will use this flooding to somehow justify his pulling out of the desertification treaty in March. So, while I was inconvenienced by a five-hour blackout and a muddy garage, at least I wasn’t in Calgary.
And as I write this, they’re calling for even more rain and a possibility of hail. Hail. So, where to put my car now? Flooded garage not an option. And outside could mean serious chassis damage. Yet, even as I type this, I think about my Calgarian compatriots without power and out of their homes for days and feel humble.
But remember, kiddies, THERE IS NO GLOBAL WARMING! CLIMATE CHANGE IS A MYTH!
Idiots.
This, of course, on the back of the Calgary-area flooding. Some time ago, I ranted about the idiocy of humans and the inability of some to acknowledge the obvious. I mean, if there is retributive karma in the universe, surely it was that macabre sense of humour that flooded Stephen Harper’s riding in Calgary. In fact, I’m sure he will use this flooding to somehow justify his pulling out of the desertification treaty in March. So, while I was inconvenienced by a five-hour blackout and a muddy garage, at least I wasn’t in Calgary.
And as I write this, they’re calling for even more rain and a possibility of hail. Hail. So, where to put my car now? Flooded garage not an option. And outside could mean serious chassis damage. Yet, even as I type this, I think about my Calgarian compatriots without power and out of their homes for days and feel humble.
But remember, kiddies, THERE IS NO GLOBAL WARMING! CLIMATE CHANGE IS A MYTH!
Idiots.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
one hand in my pocket
Part of my spring cleaning ritual is to go through all my clothes, no matter how often (or not) I wear them. As I began piling coats/jackets for dry-cleaning, I emptied the pockets of each. The contents are usually a very good indicator of the last time they were actually worn. Also, this year, I’ve decided to replace my cheap pleather jackets (which make me unbearably sticky) with real leather. This was an easy decision to make in a vacuum. Actually holding my little black number, with its ruffled detail and pewter buttons, I vacillated. I remember where I was when I bought it (Sainte-Catherine St W, with AnCe and Nish) and where I first wore it (Au Pied de Cochon). As I emptied the pockets, I also remembered the sad occasion when I wore it last.
Here’s what I found:
Two American pennies:
1994: starting high school, this year was a formative one. I had access to the best music and the easiest wardrobe choices; I made lifelong friends and nemeses; I discovered my sense of self under a great big Canadian flag in front of a bunch of strangers.
2006: debt-free, clear-eyed, newly-housed – this was the true beginning of the rest of my life.
Hair-Tie, in apple green. Can never have enough of these, especially in apple green.
A poem, by Dylan Thomas:
A receipt for $42.97 from The Flower Shop
Sometimes, it’s not worth hanging on to something for sentimentality only. I don’t wear this jacket, ever. In theory, it’s beautiful: totally my style and edgy-cool. In reality: it makes me uncomfortable. Into the donations bag it went, hopefully a memory-maker for someone who can stand the heat. Me? I’m moving on.
Here’s what I found:
Two American pennies:
1994: starting high school, this year was a formative one. I had access to the best music and the easiest wardrobe choices; I made lifelong friends and nemeses; I discovered my sense of self under a great big Canadian flag in front of a bunch of strangers.
2006: debt-free, clear-eyed, newly-housed – this was the true beginning of the rest of my life.
Hair-Tie, in apple green. Can never have enough of these, especially in apple green.
A poem, by Dylan Thomas:
Your breath was shed
Invisible to make
About the soiled undead
Night for my sake,
A raining trail
Intangible to them
With biter's tooth and tail
And cobweb drum,
A dark as deep
My love as a round wave
To hide the wolves of sleep
And mask the grave.
A receipt for $42.97 from The Flower Shop
Sometimes, it’s not worth hanging on to something for sentimentality only. I don’t wear this jacket, ever. In theory, it’s beautiful: totally my style and edgy-cool. In reality: it makes me uncomfortable. Into the donations bag it went, hopefully a memory-maker for someone who can stand the heat. Me? I’m moving on.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
spring cleaning
Since I was chained to my desk today, waiting on phone calls and such, I was able to clean up around my (temporary) office. Here’s something I didn’t share with you, poppets, and I hope you’ll understand why.
For the past few months (since January), I’ve been an acting Area Manager. What’s an Area Manager? Good question. For us, it’s the position between our front-line managers and the Director. It’s the equivalent of a vice-president or deputy director. It’s been an eye-opening experience, and I’ve really enjoyed learning to view everything through a very wide system lens. It’s also been a humbling experience that has taught me just how little power those in this position wield. Honestly, I consider myself an ambitious person; so, I’m a bit surprised at myself wanting to get back to being with front-line staff. I think I miss having an immediate team, attaining goals and ticking off projects, chatting with the coffee klatch. Or, maybe it’s the fact that this is an acting gig, where I’m constantly trying to figure out if I should take on a project or not (Will I be able to finish in time? What are my parameters? Should I make a decision that someone else will have to live with?).
For the past few months (since January), I’ve been an acting Area Manager. What’s an Area Manager? Good question. For us, it’s the position between our front-line managers and the Director. It’s the equivalent of a vice-president or deputy director. It’s been an eye-opening experience, and I’ve really enjoyed learning to view everything through a very wide system lens. It’s also been a humbling experience that has taught me just how little power those in this position wield. Honestly, I consider myself an ambitious person; so, I’m a bit surprised at myself wanting to get back to being with front-line staff. I think I miss having an immediate team, attaining goals and ticking off projects, chatting with the coffee klatch. Or, maybe it’s the fact that this is an acting gig, where I’m constantly trying to figure out if I should take on a project or not (Will I be able to finish in time? What are my parameters? Should I make a decision that someone else will have to live with?).
Thursday, January 03, 2013
#2
(countdown of LilBro's biggest fans - as ranked by Facebook)
YAY! You made it! FIREWORKS AND STREAMERS! Now could you just please stop pestering about this, okay? Look, I know you're my sister, and your interest in my stuff is always welcome, but you got to give me some slack here! 25 people to gush over is a daunting task. I mean, I had to somehow compress the importance of A and L's work, and then expand on the importance of drinking with the twins, and make them seem equal, which they aren't! Clearly A saving lives far outweighs how many shots K and I can do in one sitting (no offence buddy). I realize the irony of giving myself a task that I am now complaining about, trust me. Can I move on now? Thank you.
But I wouldn't be her brother if I didn't come in kicking and screaming. And really, that must have been her first memory of me, kicking and screaming.
I'm not going to bore you with our life story, it would be unfitting for such a large and dense story to be made here on a Facebook status. So instead of trying to get into it, I'll speak in metaphor as best I can.
Once, there were two people. One was older, smarter, logical, with an appetite for knowledge, and who would not be stopped by flaws or social trends. The younger one was more rowdy, reckless, humorous and would not be stopped by reason and social law. They were forced to somehow relate and feed off each other's strengths. In the beginning, they most certainly did not get along. It was not until years later that the finally found true kinship and complimented each other's life.
M--- is definitely the archetype for "Older Sister". If there was Oscar for who played the part the best, M--- would win. She's kind when she has to be, she's strict when she needs to be. She's saved my life about 4 times now, and real-life saving, not that bullshit "Oh she got me out of a rut, she's my emotional rock" thing, I mean saved my life from the possibility of Jail, Drug Addiction, being Seriously Injured for doing something dumb, and yes, Death. That's a big four. And yeah, she'll probably take all the kudos and praise she can for it, maybe a little cocky about it too, but that's okay, because deep down, M--- does these things because it's her reflex to do so. It's in her bones to save people. This is a girl who grew up on Thundercats, Batman, Buffy and Star Trek TNG. And that's just TV, I won't even count the books. So now you understand why it's in her.
It's her nature, it's a sense of duty that she carries through all aspects of life. I seent it, y'all. She is my number one fan of all my hard work, she recognizes when I've put work into something. I have tried my best to be a good little brother. That means washing her car from time to time (because I borrow it a lot), painting her house (because I crash on the couch), and whatever little favours she asks of me (because I was, and still can be, an annoying little shit). But really, I can't repay all the times I got ice cream money from her as a kid, it's impossible. And that really is a microcosm of our relationship: M--- rewards me with ice cream if I've been good and haven't annoyed her that day. Sweet deal, I say.
So Cheers to the #2 spot, my sister. I love you THIS much.
<--------------------------------------------------------->
YAY! You made it! FIREWORKS AND STREAMERS! Now could you just please stop pestering about this, okay? Look, I know you're my sister, and your interest in my stuff is always welcome, but you got to give me some slack here! 25 people to gush over is a daunting task. I mean, I had to somehow compress the importance of A and L's work, and then expand on the importance of drinking with the twins, and make them seem equal, which they aren't! Clearly A saving lives far outweighs how many shots K and I can do in one sitting (no offence buddy). I realize the irony of giving myself a task that I am now complaining about, trust me. Can I move on now? Thank you.
But I wouldn't be her brother if I didn't come in kicking and screaming. And really, that must have been her first memory of me, kicking and screaming.
I'm not going to bore you with our life story, it would be unfitting for such a large and dense story to be made here on a Facebook status. So instead of trying to get into it, I'll speak in metaphor as best I can.
Once, there were two people. One was older, smarter, logical, with an appetite for knowledge, and who would not be stopped by flaws or social trends. The younger one was more rowdy, reckless, humorous and would not be stopped by reason and social law. They were forced to somehow relate and feed off each other's strengths. In the beginning, they most certainly did not get along. It was not until years later that the finally found true kinship and complimented each other's life.
M--- is definitely the archetype for "Older Sister". If there was Oscar for who played the part the best, M--- would win. She's kind when she has to be, she's strict when she needs to be. She's saved my life about 4 times now, and real-life saving, not that bullshit "Oh she got me out of a rut, she's my emotional rock" thing, I mean saved my life from the possibility of Jail, Drug Addiction, being Seriously Injured for doing something dumb, and yes, Death. That's a big four. And yeah, she'll probably take all the kudos and praise she can for it, maybe a little cocky about it too, but that's okay, because deep down, M--- does these things because it's her reflex to do so. It's in her bones to save people. This is a girl who grew up on Thundercats, Batman, Buffy and Star Trek TNG. And that's just TV, I won't even count the books. So now you understand why it's in her.
It's her nature, it's a sense of duty that she carries through all aspects of life. I seent it, y'all. She is my number one fan of all my hard work, she recognizes when I've put work into something. I have tried my best to be a good little brother. That means washing her car from time to time (because I borrow it a lot), painting her house (because I crash on the couch), and whatever little favours she asks of me (because I was, and still can be, an annoying little shit). But really, I can't repay all the times I got ice cream money from her as a kid, it's impossible. And that really is a microcosm of our relationship: M--- rewards me with ice cream if I've been good and haven't annoyed her that day. Sweet deal, I say.
So Cheers to the #2 spot, my sister. I love you THIS much.
<--------------------------------------------------------->
Thursday, August 16, 2012
WoW: things i learned from my raid leader
When asked about leadership styles during job interviews, I’m always a little stumped. How can I explain that some of my best lessons were learned while gutting imaginary beasts and demons in some alternate dimension? It’s true.
Before Warcraft, here’s how I dealt with group dynamics:
- assess strengths and weaknesses of team members
- divide the work among the capable
- dismiss those I didn’t see contributing
- take all presentation responsibilities in order to ensure effective communication of end result
…If there was any dissension amongst the group, I’d just bulldoze over it, because I had no time to try out stupid ideas destined for failure. And Goddess help you if you had to ask the same question twice. See #3.
Raiding in Warcraft is a serious team effort. One person cannot slack or it results in, well, death. Everyone has to come prepared (repaired, stocked up and forged for maximum efficiency) and everyone has to trust in their party to put forth their best effort. It takes a special kind of person to be able to lead a group of people, of differing skill levels and with unique skills to contribute, in the pursuit of one goal.
Having had the privilege of reporting to an amazing Raid Leader, Magnus, here are the things he taught me:
Monday, June 25, 2012
m.conferencecall
(This is my first mobile post. I expect many hilarious auto changes.)
In beautiful and (finally) sunny California for the ALA conference. Unlike the superconference, I don't really know anyone here at all and the gives me a lot of free time in between sessions. Like now.
I am struck by the ordinariness of the attendees as well. Every Feb, we play drinking games called Hip/Cats, where we take imaginary shots whenever we see a hipster librarian or a genuine cat lady. A conspicuous absence of both in California, where everyone is just.. average.
Also, for such a BIG conference, there's a real lack of tech. Last night, at the SciFi session, the moderator actually had a Word document up on the projector with a link to the survey. Hello ... QR code?
In beautiful and (finally) sunny California for the ALA conference. Unlike the superconference, I don't really know anyone here at all and the gives me a lot of free time in between sessions. Like now.
I am struck by the ordinariness of the attendees as well. Every Feb, we play drinking games called Hip/Cats, where we take imaginary shots whenever we see a hipster librarian or a genuine cat lady. A conspicuous absence of both in California, where everyone is just.. average.
Also, for such a BIG conference, there's a real lack of tech. Last night, at the SciFi session, the moderator actually had a Word document up on the projector with a link to the survey. Hello ... QR code?
Saturday, June 23, 2012
surprises
Across the street from the happiest place on earth, taking stock of what I've learned today.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
away
Assignment #6: away
Sometimes I wonder if taking a holiday is really a good idea. Sure, I come back refreshed, full of stories and food, carrying memories – but really, all I do is think about the next trip, the next flight, the next bag to pack. If I could find a way to travel perpetually, to spend my life out of a suitcase, I think I’d do it. At least, for a while.
Of course, this is where cognitive dissonance sets in. You see, by nature, I’m a nester. I like my hearth and home. I like the idea of having a bed to call my own and bookshelves brimming with staycation adventures. I like baking and decorating and curling up in front of the TV to watch reality shows about islands or dancing. And yet… and yet.
Sometimes I wonder if taking a holiday is really a good idea. Sure, I come back refreshed, full of stories and food, carrying memories – but really, all I do is think about the next trip, the next flight, the next bag to pack. If I could find a way to travel perpetually, to spend my life out of a suitcase, I think I’d do it. At least, for a while.
Of course, this is where cognitive dissonance sets in. You see, by nature, I’m a nester. I like my hearth and home. I like the idea of having a bed to call my own and bookshelves brimming with staycation adventures. I like baking and decorating and curling up in front of the TV to watch reality shows about islands or dancing. And yet… and yet.
Thursday, April 05, 2012
mantra
Sometimes, I feel completely overwhelmed.
Doesn't happen often.
I like swimming in a big pond with sharp-toothed fishies,
darting about, through the murky waters and the shimmering seaweed.
I like it because it reminds of those dreams I had as a kid where I breathe underwater.
But sometimes,
just sometimes,
I swallow a mouthful and end up
gasping and choking and floundering.
I'm lost in the deep dark
and I feel like I have nowhere to go
and if I don't figure it out right away,
I'm going to drown.
It is then,
especially then,
that I repeat my mantra:
Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.
Over and over until I'm a calm little crab once again,
crawling about the depths,
shaping the wild ocean
one snipped barnacle at a time.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
typhoid mary
After months (bordering on years) of being illness-free, I am struck down. I blame it on the unholy coupling of "Spring Forward" and unseasonably (unreasonably!) warm weather. Within three days, I went from a slight tickle to coughing fits that induce sharp pains in my left arm. A very supportive DK assumed point at work and took care of all my duty manager commitments; half my department is either currently ill or recuperating. I suggested a full decontamination of the department. I wish we had windows at work: it can't be healthy to have all these semi-sick people (who have taken flu shots so they don't feel ill enough to stay home, thereby infecting the rest of us) breathing in recycled air. Long story short: am sick at home.
I ordered a BUNCH of spicy food from the local Thai place; it's the only thing I can taste. And then, it happened. I ran out of cough syrup. NOOOOOoooOoOoOooO!
How To Score Boyfriend Points:
I ordered a BUNCH of spicy food from the local Thai place; it's the only thing I can taste. And then, it happened. I ran out of cough syrup. NOOOOOoooOoOoOooO!
How To Score Boyfriend Points:
Sunday, January 22, 2012
foster care
So, I put my new relationship with Oscar to its first test last night - I went out for the night and left him to his own devices for about twelve hours. Well, here's the list of damages:
- Front Closet: annihilated. Every hanger was on the floor and every shoe was thoroughly investigated. The fact that he can open the closet door is pretty incredible in and of itself.
- Plants: they were the true casualties...
- Bamboo plant: a housewarming gift from Senator. Now mulch.
- Spider plant: her babies didn't survive the first afternoon; she was mauled last night. She's recovering in the bedroom; I cannot guarantee her safety when I'm not home though. More on that later.
- My couch clearly lost a wrestling match. I even covered it with a blanket that Oscar slept on, but no dice. Blanket on floor; lots of new scratches on the couch
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Oscar
Having never been a cat person (or a pet person, really), no one was more shocked than I when I accepted the ownership of Oscar. He's a 16-month-old tuxedo tabby who is quiet, playful and has a cute way of bumping his entire body against your legs in order to get free pets from you. He doesn't seem to eat a lot, uses his litter box (and then comes and tells you about it) and like to snuggle while you watch TV.
There is one slight problem: I'm allergic to the buttercup. Not deathly or anything - the doctor says it will either get better or get worse - no way to tell without just giving it a shot. So Oscar moved in on Thursday night.
There is one slight problem: I'm allergic to the buttercup. Not deathly or anything - the doctor says it will either get better or get worse - no way to tell without just giving it a shot. So Oscar moved in on Thursday night.
Friday, October 28, 2011
full circle
Last year, a dozen yellow roses signalled the beginning of a new relationship. Though, it wasn't new at all - we'd dated before, we'd broken up like seven times, we haven't stopped being in each other's lives since we met (officially) over a dusty bank of computer monitors more than thirteen years ago. This time, I think, we did the mature thing: laid our cards out right at the beginning, no games, no coy suggestions. This time, I think, we did it right.
Friday, October 07, 2011
back to school
I don’t know what possessed me. I mean, I’m busy enough with work and friends and family and a boyfriend. I think I was just feeling a little intellectually… atrophied. My job is challenging but it isn’t exactly rocket science. Worse, I don’t seem to be able to use analytical and problem-solving skills enough to keep them sharp. I needed…more.
So, now, on Thursday evenings I find myself in a building that’s like a bizarro version of my high school sitting in an accounting class. That’s right, accounting. Whenever I’d say that I’m going back to school, people would ask me (all excited) “ooohhh, what for?” and I (equally excited) would answer, “accounting” and, inevitably, the look of puzzlement crossed their face. Yes. Accounting. I feel like my love for numbers and money has been seriously ignored these past few years. I mean, the “budget” at work consists of staying under 100%; they don’t even give me real numbers. Yawn.
So, now, on Thursday evenings I find myself in a building that’s like a bizarro version of my high school sitting in an accounting class. That’s right, accounting. Whenever I’d say that I’m going back to school, people would ask me (all excited) “ooohhh, what for?” and I (equally excited) would answer, “accounting” and, inevitably, the look of puzzlement crossed their face. Yes. Accounting. I feel like my love for numbers and money has been seriously ignored these past few years. I mean, the “budget” at work consists of staying under 100%; they don’t even give me real numbers. Yawn.
Sunday, January 02, 2011
ringing in 2011
Things I learned during the wee infant hours of 2011:
1) Laotian Bucket Drinks: renamed the Fuck-It Bucket, this ingenious idea requires the following items
- one dollar-store toy bucket, the kind you used to use in the sandbox
- one mickey of your favourite whiskey
- one can of Red Bull
- a splash of coke for taste
- enough ice to fill what's left of the bucket
- plenty of straws
...Apparently, in Laos, these cost $2.50 USD. Worth every penny. As Mike said, before you realise it, you're about 25 shots in! Also: delicious! So, whenever someone lamented something from 2010, there was a general chorus of "fuck it! drink from the bucket!" Good times.
2) The worth of one's pyjamas is directly correlated with how close you are to them. Case in point: we had a 45-minute walk home that night, in balmy 9-degree weather (Celsius, for my American friends) and two conversations occured.
a) glass v. rock
Me: I think I have a piece of glass in my boot
Nish: Are you sure it's not a pebble or something?
Me: No, it's sharp-ish, like glass.
Nish. Well, if it's glass, we'd better stop; if it's a rock, suck it up.
Me: Nah, i'll just wiggle it to a place where it doesn't hurt.
b) feet v cab
Me: (after forty minutes of walking) That's it, I'm done.
Nish: what?
Me: I'm done. This walking thing has lost its novelty. If we see a cab now, we should just take it.
Nish: We're, like, ten minutes from home.
Me: yes, but in one minute we could in our jammies...
Nish:...*hails cab*
3) No resolutions this year. As Jadek says, they set us up for failure. Life changes will be made, including less junk food, more dancing and even more reading.
All the best in 2011, poppets!
1) Laotian Bucket Drinks: renamed the Fuck-It Bucket, this ingenious idea requires the following items
- one dollar-store toy bucket, the kind you used to use in the sandbox
- one mickey of your favourite whiskey
- one can of Red Bull
- a splash of coke for taste
- enough ice to fill what's left of the bucket
- plenty of straws
...Apparently, in Laos, these cost $2.50 USD. Worth every penny. As Mike said, before you realise it, you're about 25 shots in! Also: delicious! So, whenever someone lamented something from 2010, there was a general chorus of "fuck it! drink from the bucket!" Good times.
2) The worth of one's pyjamas is directly correlated with how close you are to them. Case in point: we had a 45-minute walk home that night, in balmy 9-degree weather (Celsius, for my American friends) and two conversations occured.
a) glass v. rock
Me: I think I have a piece of glass in my boot
Nish: Are you sure it's not a pebble or something?
Me: No, it's sharp-ish, like glass.
Nish. Well, if it's glass, we'd better stop; if it's a rock, suck it up.
Me: Nah, i'll just wiggle it to a place where it doesn't hurt.
b) feet v cab
Me: (after forty minutes of walking) That's it, I'm done.
Nish: what?
Me: I'm done. This walking thing has lost its novelty. If we see a cab now, we should just take it.
Nish: We're, like, ten minutes from home.
Me: yes, but in one minute we could in our jammies...
Nish:...*hails cab*
3) No resolutions this year. As Jadek says, they set us up for failure. Life changes will be made, including less junk food, more dancing and even more reading.
All the best in 2011, poppets!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Dear 2010,
You've been a good year - a very good year indeed. I've seen lots of places, done lots of interesting things, indulged in my passions, and been treated like a princess. I'm a firm believer of the five spheres - family, friends, wealth, health and love. Most everyone and everything in our lives fit on one of these spheres. I think 2010 was the first year that I felt like my spheres actually clicked together, as opposed to smashing into each other..
Family: in a continuing upward trend, my family and I are beginning to enjoy each other's company. I think my twice-a-week visit helped quite a bit with that. We've actually chosen to hang out together, play games and just chat. I know people tell you this will happen, but I didn't really believe them.
Friends: I've been able to actually get this under control - weed out the chaff, as it were. Monthly Book Club meetings are one of my highlights in life and I simply love those ladies. Finding a new travel buddy that actually jives with Nish and my craziness has been a serious bonus - Ance, you're a gem. Board games are back on, although with less frequency, and I'm finding that they keep my competitive edge sharp. Work friends have become real friends (I can't tell you how lovely it is to walk into your office and have roses - or a scarf! - greet you).
Wealth: it's the first year I didn't feel poor (although, my bank account still does) and I've been afforded the gift of time to enjoy books, movies and mini-crafts. My job has been extremely satisfying and I feel like I've really made a difference. My recent promotion, I think, testifies to that. Speaking of which, in a month or so, I get to go back to a bipedal commute that's under fifteen minutes. A new challenge and I'm a little excited (though still sad to be leaving where I am now).
Health: any year where I don't contract a fatal disease is a good one. *knock wood* Having gotten over my initial illness early this year, we've had a pretty good run.
Love: ahh, love. Elusive little minx. I'm lucky to say I've found someone who will put up with my special brand of crazy and who doesn't seem to mind that I travel without him, have a life outside of him and who loves me despite (because of?) my tendency to be incredibly demanding. Who knew this was possible?
So! As I think back to my 2010 resolutions this year, I realise I did almost none of the things I set out to - I think I drank less, read less and crafted almost nothing. I did get Netflix and began bringing home library DVDs every week, so I guess there's that... but I still watched a LOT of movies this year. Meh - I don't even feel guilty. I clearly did something right this year, so why mess with a winning formula...if only I knew what that formula is...
Thanks, 2010, for being kinda awesome. You've set a bar.
Sincerely,
-Me
[Happy New Years, everyone! Best of luck for 2011 and, as Elle says, I hope you all make more money than a comatose pigeon!]
Family: in a continuing upward trend, my family and I are beginning to enjoy each other's company. I think my twice-a-week visit helped quite a bit with that. We've actually chosen to hang out together, play games and just chat. I know people tell you this will happen, but I didn't really believe them.
Friends: I've been able to actually get this under control - weed out the chaff, as it were. Monthly Book Club meetings are one of my highlights in life and I simply love those ladies. Finding a new travel buddy that actually jives with Nish and my craziness has been a serious bonus - Ance, you're a gem. Board games are back on, although with less frequency, and I'm finding that they keep my competitive edge sharp. Work friends have become real friends (I can't tell you how lovely it is to walk into your office and have roses - or a scarf! - greet you).
Wealth: it's the first year I didn't feel poor (although, my bank account still does) and I've been afforded the gift of time to enjoy books, movies and mini-crafts. My job has been extremely satisfying and I feel like I've really made a difference. My recent promotion, I think, testifies to that. Speaking of which, in a month or so, I get to go back to a bipedal commute that's under fifteen minutes. A new challenge and I'm a little excited (though still sad to be leaving where I am now).
Health: any year where I don't contract a fatal disease is a good one. *knock wood* Having gotten over my initial illness early this year, we've had a pretty good run.
Love: ahh, love. Elusive little minx. I'm lucky to say I've found someone who will put up with my special brand of crazy and who doesn't seem to mind that I travel without him, have a life outside of him and who loves me despite (because of?) my tendency to be incredibly demanding. Who knew this was possible?
So! As I think back to my 2010 resolutions this year, I realise I did almost none of the things I set out to - I think I drank less, read less and crafted almost nothing. I did get Netflix and began bringing home library DVDs every week, so I guess there's that... but I still watched a LOT of movies this year. Meh - I don't even feel guilty. I clearly did something right this year, so why mess with a winning formula...if only I knew what that formula is...
Thanks, 2010, for being kinda awesome. You've set a bar.
Sincerely,
-Me
[Happy New Years, everyone! Best of luck for 2011 and, as Elle says, I hope you all make more money than a comatose pigeon!]
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