I have been rather busy..
I was at a conference out of town for most of the last week...
We have since returned..and have had an emotional few days with a very ill grandfather and some family members that I was already at odds with, who I'm now even more frustrated with.
After a scary few days, and a very long weekend filled with a lot of worry...the beloved grandfather now seems to be on the (slow) road to recovery...
I cannot believe that March starts tomorrow. So much has happened in February..and so much more is happening in March. We start making maple syrup soon..and I have A LOT of work to do for that. So much so that I need to get off blogger and get to bed, so that I can get up bright and early and get to work.
On a final note. Canada rocks my socks..and I knew we'd win that hockey game all along ;) Most gold medals ever in a winter olympics? Consider my socks rocked...RIGHT OFF.
█ ♥ █
Love. Love. Love.
Anywho - In true Canadian fashion...I apologize for the lapse...not that I'm really sure anyone noticed. I'll be back with (somewhat?) regularily scheduled blog posts in my little corner of the blogesphere in no time at all I'm sure.
For now, it's time to get some shuteye.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Selfish Smiles
Last week I was doing some errands - grocery shopping.
Not the most fun of tasks - relatively menial and relatively boring - but kinda REALLY necessary. I looked around me and to my left saw a grumpy, over tired mother dragging a couple of kids behind her.
To my right was a man scowling at an empty display of something that had been on sale.
And infront me, a young couple arguing over a bottle of olives.
Yes, olives.
I have to admit, I wasn't in the best of moods. I was running late, I had a million things to do and I was relatively stressed about certain things. As I looked up inbetween trying to decide which apples to add to my cart, that was all it took to convince me to switch my mood and take control of my attitude. Seeing people so miserable, when they probably had little to nothing to be THAT upset about..just makes you think.
Just the fact that they were in a grocery store, the fact that they had money to buy food - that should have been enough reason to smile. We are so lucky in this part of the world to have the things that we have, to have the resources that we have, and yet, so often...we take it for granted and we put on this grouchy miserable face and stomp around as if the world owes us everything.
So, I played a game that I sometimes play.
The one that people sometimes tell me is creepy - but I love playing anyways.
The one where I smile at strangers, in hopes of putting a little something extra into their day. Where I go out of my way to say excuse me, or laugh or just ask how someones doing. Sometimes people are a little taken back, but most times..their previously grouchy exterior softens, and they go about their day with a little more pep.
The critical moment of this game came at the checkout. The woman before me was snippy and rude to the cashier - and you could see that it was taking its toll on her. She seemed to just be having an off day, and it was clearly evident that every little, tiny, miniscule error was turned into a huge blow - and the customer infront of me was definitely not helping.
So when it was my turn, I stepped up to the front of the conveyor belt, put on my biggest smile and asked how she was doing with my friendliest, most cheerful voice.
She was clearly taken back, but then answered with a sheepish smile that she was doing okay.
As she ran into a small problem ringing through one thing, she started to apologize and I again smiled and told her not to worry about it - it was no big deal.
We tittered back and forth as she finished ringing up my purchases and I smiled yet again as I handed her the exact change.
As she handed me my reciept, she smiled the first, real, geniune 'I'm not just smiling 'cause I'm being paid to' smile and said thank-you. I left there hoping maybe the smiles I'd given her would stick around for a little while, and be passed on to someone else too - it's rather infectious once you start.
Truth is...I like to try and convince myself that I was playing it for everyone else in the store. REALLY though..whenever I play the game, I always end up with the biggest smile sticking on my face the whole day. Maybe I am being selfish and playing it for myself...but if that's the way I'm going to be selfish, well..that's pretty okay with me.
Not the most fun of tasks - relatively menial and relatively boring - but kinda REALLY necessary. I looked around me and to my left saw a grumpy, over tired mother dragging a couple of kids behind her.
To my right was a man scowling at an empty display of something that had been on sale.
And infront me, a young couple arguing over a bottle of olives.
Yes, olives.
I have to admit, I wasn't in the best of moods. I was running late, I had a million things to do and I was relatively stressed about certain things. As I looked up inbetween trying to decide which apples to add to my cart, that was all it took to convince me to switch my mood and take control of my attitude. Seeing people so miserable, when they probably had little to nothing to be THAT upset about..just makes you think.
Just the fact that they were in a grocery store, the fact that they had money to buy food - that should have been enough reason to smile. We are so lucky in this part of the world to have the things that we have, to have the resources that we have, and yet, so often...we take it for granted and we put on this grouchy miserable face and stomp around as if the world owes us everything.
So, I played a game that I sometimes play.
The one that people sometimes tell me is creepy - but I love playing anyways.
The one where I smile at strangers, in hopes of putting a little something extra into their day. Where I go out of my way to say excuse me, or laugh or just ask how someones doing. Sometimes people are a little taken back, but most times..their previously grouchy exterior softens, and they go about their day with a little more pep.
The critical moment of this game came at the checkout. The woman before me was snippy and rude to the cashier - and you could see that it was taking its toll on her. She seemed to just be having an off day, and it was clearly evident that every little, tiny, miniscule error was turned into a huge blow - and the customer infront of me was definitely not helping.
So when it was my turn, I stepped up to the front of the conveyor belt, put on my biggest smile and asked how she was doing with my friendliest, most cheerful voice.
She was clearly taken back, but then answered with a sheepish smile that she was doing okay.
As she ran into a small problem ringing through one thing, she started to apologize and I again smiled and told her not to worry about it - it was no big deal.
We tittered back and forth as she finished ringing up my purchases and I smiled yet again as I handed her the exact change.
As she handed me my reciept, she smiled the first, real, geniune 'I'm not just smiling 'cause I'm being paid to' smile and said thank-you. I left there hoping maybe the smiles I'd given her would stick around for a little while, and be passed on to someone else too - it's rather infectious once you start.
Truth is...I like to try and convince myself that I was playing it for everyone else in the store. REALLY though..whenever I play the game, I always end up with the biggest smile sticking on my face the whole day. Maybe I am being selfish and playing it for myself...but if that's the way I'm going to be selfish, well..that's pretty okay with me.
Monday, February 22, 2010
The Heart Of The Matter
My parents have always eaten some (relatively) strange things. At least they were strange when you live in a rural small town in the middle of nowhere Ontario.
If for instance we would eat guacamole back in the day (before it became 'cool') I'm sure peoples reactions would have been (and probably still are for a lot of people 'round these parts) would be something along the lines of "..uhh..there's some sorta green in this here - uhhh you forgot to put the MEAT on my plate"
Or take for instance my other childhood favourite (until I realized what they were) of escargot. I'm sure people would (and..uhh..probably DO) say "SNAILS BELONG IN THAT THERE GARDEN - NOT IN MY MOUTH FOOL! GET ME A STEAK!"
And then there were artichokes.
A delicacy loved by many..and yet..one of my biggest childhood fears.
I have very distinct, vibrant memories of sitting on our pantry floor, staring at jars of artichokes.
Or of being asked to grab something in the pantry and my hand brushing a glass jar of them and shuddering in absolute horror.
Or watching with what I can only imagine is a look of pure disgust on my face as my mother opened a jar and ate one - whole. And then proceeded to proclaim just how AMAZING they were.
It wasn't until years later, an age I'm not going to disclose for fear of being shamed right out of the vegetable farming business, that I realized that vegetables can have hearts too.
Yeah they do.
And low and behold...eating hearts aren't actually gross - they're increderifically yum. Well. Hearts of the vegetable variety anyways.
If for instance we would eat guacamole back in the day (before it became 'cool') I'm sure peoples reactions would have been (and probably still are for a lot of people 'round these parts) would be something along the lines of "..uhh..there's some sorta green in this here - uhhh you forgot to put the MEAT on my plate"
Or take for instance my other childhood favourite (until I realized what they were) of escargot. I'm sure people would (and..uhh..probably DO) say "SNAILS BELONG IN THAT THERE GARDEN - NOT IN MY MOUTH FOOL! GET ME A STEAK!"
And then there were artichokes.
A delicacy loved by many..and yet..one of my biggest childhood fears.
I have very distinct, vibrant memories of sitting on our pantry floor, staring at jars of artichokes.
Or of being asked to grab something in the pantry and my hand brushing a glass jar of them and shuddering in absolute horror.
Or watching with what I can only imagine is a look of pure disgust on my face as my mother opened a jar and ate one - whole. And then proceeded to proclaim just how AMAZING they were.
It wasn't until years later, an age I'm not going to disclose for fear of being shamed right out of the vegetable farming business, that I realized that vegetables can have hearts too.
Yeah they do.
And low and behold...eating hearts aren't actually gross - they're increderifically yum. Well. Hearts of the vegetable variety anyways.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Sighs & Hugs
Today has been a long day.
Today was the day that we moved my uncle into a long term care facility.
I can't even begin to imagine what he's thinking. At moments he was absolutely fine. He was his normal, regular, happy self. He was flirting with the nurses and teasing them incessantly. He was looking through pictures and enjoying himself. But at other times..he just looked confused. Distant, worried and generally uneasy.
It was bizarre, because he does need 24 hours supervision, and he can't be left unattended - it was necessary that he be put in a secure unit. Codes in, codes out and special precautions taken to avoid wandering. His memory is...crap. But his cognitive abilities? His body? His general being? They're still completely there.
As he pointed out, he was unlike almost all of the people in the same unit as him...and to be truthful, in a lot of ways, he was. He was also very guarded - he was on his best behaviour - not unlike how he is with a lot of people out in public, or how he was when he first moved back to Canada. The thing is though - now I know that this is not actually how he is on a regular basis. He can be so normal, so much his usual self but when he's not - that's when it gets difficult, impossible and heartbreaking.
We left and I managed to only tear up a few times - and I was extremely proud of myself for that. I expected to be a constant mess of tears, but from somewhere I managed to find a source of inner strength. Even though a part of me wanted to break down..I knew that I couldn't. It was necessary to be strong, to not let him see that I was upset and to be a pillar of support for my cousin - who was, and still is, on one of the biggest an emotional rollercoasters of her life thus far.
It is so odd to be here without him. To sit on his couch. To not answer the same questions every five minutes. To not be on a strict schedule of meals and pills and all of those other things. In a sentence - it doesn't feel real. It feels like a weight has been lifted, but another element of worry, a different kind of weight has crept into my life. I've always been a worrier - even when I know something is okay, I just can't help myself. The nurses were all so nice and helpful and good - I would never worry about that..but worrying is just what I do. I think that it will be better when he gets a chance to settle in and be himself, and visiting will help to relieve the worry I think.
I know that this is the best for him. I know that he needs this...and I know that he's okay. But I can't help but wonder and worry about him...I can't help but want to drive the five minutes down the road and peek in the windows. That makes me sound so creepy..and I swear I'm not..I just have this unsatiable urge to make sure everything is always okay.
I wish there was an easier way - I wish that hugs could heal all worries and saddness and that people I love weren't faced with situations such as these. That people I love were immune from the aging process. That people weren't faced with immense amounts of sadness and worry. Unfortuantly though, that's life and there is not much else that I can think to do to help, besides being here. All I can do is have faith that it will all be okay, that it will all work out an perhaps continue to give out hugs..because even if they don't help..they make me feel like I'm doing something, anything.
Ugh - emotional situations leave me drained beyond belief. It's 6:13 and I've been ready for bed and lying on the couch in my pjs for hours now. Time for some pizza, some cuddles with the cat and an early bedtime.
The sun will come out tomorrow - cute little red headed orphans never lie - right?
Today was the day that we moved my uncle into a long term care facility.
I can't even begin to imagine what he's thinking. At moments he was absolutely fine. He was his normal, regular, happy self. He was flirting with the nurses and teasing them incessantly. He was looking through pictures and enjoying himself. But at other times..he just looked confused. Distant, worried and generally uneasy.
It was bizarre, because he does need 24 hours supervision, and he can't be left unattended - it was necessary that he be put in a secure unit. Codes in, codes out and special precautions taken to avoid wandering. His memory is...crap. But his cognitive abilities? His body? His general being? They're still completely there.
As he pointed out, he was unlike almost all of the people in the same unit as him...and to be truthful, in a lot of ways, he was. He was also very guarded - he was on his best behaviour - not unlike how he is with a lot of people out in public, or how he was when he first moved back to Canada. The thing is though - now I know that this is not actually how he is on a regular basis. He can be so normal, so much his usual self but when he's not - that's when it gets difficult, impossible and heartbreaking.
We left and I managed to only tear up a few times - and I was extremely proud of myself for that. I expected to be a constant mess of tears, but from somewhere I managed to find a source of inner strength. Even though a part of me wanted to break down..I knew that I couldn't. It was necessary to be strong, to not let him see that I was upset and to be a pillar of support for my cousin - who was, and still is, on one of the biggest an emotional rollercoasters of her life thus far.
It is so odd to be here without him. To sit on his couch. To not answer the same questions every five minutes. To not be on a strict schedule of meals and pills and all of those other things. In a sentence - it doesn't feel real. It feels like a weight has been lifted, but another element of worry, a different kind of weight has crept into my life. I've always been a worrier - even when I know something is okay, I just can't help myself. The nurses were all so nice and helpful and good - I would never worry about that..but worrying is just what I do. I think that it will be better when he gets a chance to settle in and be himself, and visiting will help to relieve the worry I think.
I know that this is the best for him. I know that he needs this...and I know that he's okay. But I can't help but wonder and worry about him...I can't help but want to drive the five minutes down the road and peek in the windows. That makes me sound so creepy..and I swear I'm not..I just have this unsatiable urge to make sure everything is always okay.
I wish there was an easier way - I wish that hugs could heal all worries and saddness and that people I love weren't faced with situations such as these. That people I love were immune from the aging process. That people weren't faced with immense amounts of sadness and worry. Unfortuantly though, that's life and there is not much else that I can think to do to help, besides being here. All I can do is have faith that it will all be okay, that it will all work out an perhaps continue to give out hugs..because even if they don't help..they make me feel like I'm doing something, anything.
Ugh - emotional situations leave me drained beyond belief. It's 6:13 and I've been ready for bed and lying on the couch in my pjs for hours now. Time for some pizza, some cuddles with the cat and an early bedtime.
The sun will come out tomorrow - cute little red headed orphans never lie - right?
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Swisssick
Sometimes the most random things remind me of Switzerland, of Europe, of a year abroad full of amazing adventures...and I get a little bit...Swisssick
Whenever I see a Swiss athlete competing...I wonder where they're from and imagine them sking through the alps - and remember exploring St. Moritz and Arosa and all of those other beautiful towns tucked up in the mountains. Like the time that my friend Jenn and I roadtripped to this little town in the middle of NOWHERE called Soglio - and it was one of the best things I EVER DID.
Or my cousin makes french onion soup - and tops it with Gryere cheese - and suddenly I can TASTE Switzerland. My mouth is infused with the flavours of fondu in the mountains and raclette after skating. I'm suddenly transported to a different time in a such a completely different world. A world of thousand dollar meals, where everyone has at least a few houses and a porsche in the driveway...but still..the things I miss?
I miss the cheese.
Okay - and maybe the views.
Whenever I see a Swiss athlete competing...I wonder where they're from and imagine them sking through the alps - and remember exploring St. Moritz and Arosa and all of those other beautiful towns tucked up in the mountains. Like the time that my friend Jenn and I roadtripped to this little town in the middle of NOWHERE called Soglio - and it was one of the best things I EVER DID.
Or my cousin makes french onion soup - and tops it with Gryere cheese - and suddenly I can TASTE Switzerland. My mouth is infused with the flavours of fondu in the mountains and raclette after skating. I'm suddenly transported to a different time in a such a completely different world. A world of thousand dollar meals, where everyone has at least a few houses and a porsche in the driveway...but still..the things I miss?
I miss the cheese.
Okay - and maybe the views.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Grownup Heartbreaks
It has been three weeks since my aunt has moved back to South Africa...and my cousin is at her wits end. She doesn't know what to do anymore.
You see, my uncle has Alzheimer's - and since my aunt had to go back to South Africa to finish her work contract..it's been difficult. He's also diabetic...which just screams with issues in itself. He eats, and then ten minutes later has forgotten that he's eaten and wants to eat again - aka - uber bad for a diabetic.
This means that he needs 24/7 care..and my one cousin has moved to Boston, my aunt is in South Africa...and my cousin-in-law is at school in Guelph. Therefore, it falls on the shoulders of the cousin left here...who is already under an incredible amount of stress and has other issues to be worrying about. He can't be left alone for any time at all - because he'll immediately get into something, anything, EVERYTHING. My mom was watching him the other day and looked away for two minutes..and he had ran into the kitchen and was hiding in the corner stuffing an ENTIRE BANANA into his mouth. Banana's have a LOT of sugar in them..especially when you've already eaten two meals and three snacks that day..and it's only 2pm...not so good for diabetics.
He also doesn't really sleep through the nights anymore - which means that 24/7 care has to be taken quite literally. There is now a gate at the top of the stairs where the bedrooms are to keep him from going downstairs when he wakes up in the middle of the night - so that he doesn't eat everything in sight...and the gate has an alarm on it, so that if he does manage to open it...everyone gets up and tries to get him to calm down and go back to bed. This itself is another huge job..because he's a completely different person at 2, 3, 4am..he screams in Italian, he yells, he tries to break things. He's unconsolable, he's irrationally angry and he's out of control - It's as if he's a completely different person. He is not his daytime self...and his nightime self is terrifying because the situation can get so out of control so fast..and you've just had to force yourself to wake up and are being pumped full of adreneline to be awake and aware enough to deal with the situation. Even at the best of times...his daytime self is still difficult...but add that extra element of aggression and anger - which is just purely part of the disease..and it's..impossible to describe.
I've been there for almost three weeks, staying there, attempting to help in any way I can...and I feel so helpless. I just don't know what to do...especially when it's three am and I'm staring at an angry old italian man who is threatening to kick me out of the house and looks like he might cry because I won't give in and give him a granola bar or a piece of bread until 7am. Funny thing is...I seem to be the only one lately who somehow convinces him to go back to bed without eating everything in the house. I'm not sure how...as it's usually in the wee hours of the morning and I'm half asleep as I'm telling him that we need to head back up to bed and closing cupboard doors and the like. From what I can tell though...he's afraid to yell at me TOO much. And he's only afraid to do that because I'm my fathers daughter, and luckily, my Dad is one of his ABSOLUTE favourite people in the ENTIRE world. Thanks Dad!!
Anyways. It's beyond a full time job, and it's just..too much..for any one person..let alone thinking about the OTHER circumstances of her life right now.
And then today...a phonecall came. From the access centre.
They put him on the crisis list to get him into a long term care facility..because of everything that has happened, and everything that has been going on...something needed to be done. Today they offered him a bed - which means that there are 24 hours to accept or decline, but you basically have to accept or else you get no government help from any agency for the next six months. The admission is at 9:30 on Friday morning...and it just seems so soon. Reality is here, and it seems so surreal..that I don't even know what to think anymore.
Sometimes he is his normal self. He jokes and teases and you think nothing is wrong..until he asks you where he is, if he's married or what day it is. And then my heart just breaks. Again and again and again.
I know it's the best thing for him. I know that it's what needs to happen. They have people who are trained to deal with dementia and all of the classic symptoms that come from it. The anger, the confusion and the regression. They have staff 24 hours a day that can be up in the middle of the night. They know how to distract him, how to diffuse an otherwise volatile situation and they have the things that he needs and will continue to need as this disease continues to progress.
It's hard - but I know that my cousin is at a breaking point, and that she can't handle it much longer. She has been doing this for years now, and there is only so much a person can handle, especially given new things that have arose in her life. I know that she'll be more good to him when she can visit him everyday, a couple of times a day (the facility is really close to their house). Instead of getting frustrated, upset and making herself stressed and exhausted from having carry the world on her shoulders and be the constant 24 hour a day caregiver...but it still breaks my heart.
Growing old sucks.
And for that matter - so does being faced with situations such as these and having to be a grownup.
Today the game of life seems to be filled with epic proportions of suckage...where you're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't. Where nothing seems fair and no matter what way you turn..you're faced with another obstacle...
Can someone lend me their time machine so that I can go back to being four again?
You see, my uncle has Alzheimer's - and since my aunt had to go back to South Africa to finish her work contract..it's been difficult. He's also diabetic...which just screams with issues in itself. He eats, and then ten minutes later has forgotten that he's eaten and wants to eat again - aka - uber bad for a diabetic.
This means that he needs 24/7 care..and my one cousin has moved to Boston, my aunt is in South Africa...and my cousin-in-law is at school in Guelph. Therefore, it falls on the shoulders of the cousin left here...who is already under an incredible amount of stress and has other issues to be worrying about. He can't be left alone for any time at all - because he'll immediately get into something, anything, EVERYTHING. My mom was watching him the other day and looked away for two minutes..and he had ran into the kitchen and was hiding in the corner stuffing an ENTIRE BANANA into his mouth. Banana's have a LOT of sugar in them..especially when you've already eaten two meals and three snacks that day..and it's only 2pm...not so good for diabetics.
He also doesn't really sleep through the nights anymore - which means that 24/7 care has to be taken quite literally. There is now a gate at the top of the stairs where the bedrooms are to keep him from going downstairs when he wakes up in the middle of the night - so that he doesn't eat everything in sight...and the gate has an alarm on it, so that if he does manage to open it...everyone gets up and tries to get him to calm down and go back to bed. This itself is another huge job..because he's a completely different person at 2, 3, 4am..he screams in Italian, he yells, he tries to break things. He's unconsolable, he's irrationally angry and he's out of control - It's as if he's a completely different person. He is not his daytime self...and his nightime self is terrifying because the situation can get so out of control so fast..and you've just had to force yourself to wake up and are being pumped full of adreneline to be awake and aware enough to deal with the situation. Even at the best of times...his daytime self is still difficult...but add that extra element of aggression and anger - which is just purely part of the disease..and it's..impossible to describe.
I've been there for almost three weeks, staying there, attempting to help in any way I can...and I feel so helpless. I just don't know what to do...especially when it's three am and I'm staring at an angry old italian man who is threatening to kick me out of the house and looks like he might cry because I won't give in and give him a granola bar or a piece of bread until 7am. Funny thing is...I seem to be the only one lately who somehow convinces him to go back to bed without eating everything in the house. I'm not sure how...as it's usually in the wee hours of the morning and I'm half asleep as I'm telling him that we need to head back up to bed and closing cupboard doors and the like. From what I can tell though...he's afraid to yell at me TOO much. And he's only afraid to do that because I'm my fathers daughter, and luckily, my Dad is one of his ABSOLUTE favourite people in the ENTIRE world. Thanks Dad!!
Anyways. It's beyond a full time job, and it's just..too much..for any one person..let alone thinking about the OTHER circumstances of her life right now.
And then today...a phonecall came. From the access centre.
They put him on the crisis list to get him into a long term care facility..because of everything that has happened, and everything that has been going on...something needed to be done. Today they offered him a bed - which means that there are 24 hours to accept or decline, but you basically have to accept or else you get no government help from any agency for the next six months. The admission is at 9:30 on Friday morning...and it just seems so soon. Reality is here, and it seems so surreal..that I don't even know what to think anymore.
Sometimes he is his normal self. He jokes and teases and you think nothing is wrong..until he asks you where he is, if he's married or what day it is. And then my heart just breaks. Again and again and again.
I know it's the best thing for him. I know that it's what needs to happen. They have people who are trained to deal with dementia and all of the classic symptoms that come from it. The anger, the confusion and the regression. They have staff 24 hours a day that can be up in the middle of the night. They know how to distract him, how to diffuse an otherwise volatile situation and they have the things that he needs and will continue to need as this disease continues to progress.
It's hard - but I know that my cousin is at a breaking point, and that she can't handle it much longer. She has been doing this for years now, and there is only so much a person can handle, especially given new things that have arose in her life. I know that she'll be more good to him when she can visit him everyday, a couple of times a day (the facility is really close to their house). Instead of getting frustrated, upset and making herself stressed and exhausted from having carry the world on her shoulders and be the constant 24 hour a day caregiver...but it still breaks my heart.
Growing old sucks.
And for that matter - so does being faced with situations such as these and having to be a grownup.
Today the game of life seems to be filled with epic proportions of suckage...where you're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't. Where nothing seems fair and no matter what way you turn..you're faced with another obstacle...
Can someone lend me their time machine so that I can go back to being four again?
Ghetto Superphone
I have a confession to make.
I'm up to date with certain technology...but my cellphone? Not so much.
It's rather oldschool. Well, not Richard Gere in Pretty Woman oldschool cellphone way...but about one step up from there.
It's so old infact, that they don't make anything even similar anymore. It's (relatively) clunky, it has no huge keyboard to type and I don't even think that you can download ringtones on it.
And I love it. So much.
It's not a blackberry, or an iphone. It doesn't get emails or pictures. It can't organize my day or tell me how to get anywhere.
But it has reception in an emergency if I need it.
I know how to use it and never have to think too much to find what I need to find or do what I need to do, which - to be honest - isn't much.
It doesn't cost me huge sums of money to have - but it has also never let me down thus far.
AND I can drop it twenty times in a day and it still works.
I don't know why I never jumped on the cell phone bandwagon. Why everyone I see has a new flashy cellphone and I couldn't care less. My cell phone provider on the other hand...can't get it through their heads why I don't want something new and fancy and flashy. They continue to send me notice after notice about how I should REALLY consider getting some new fancy thing - that would probably break to pieces the first time I dropped it, let alone the 28374th time I dropped it.
My old clunky silver flip phone is fine with me, for what I need - maybe I'll jump on the cellphone bandwagon next decade. Or you know, just stick with my ghetto superphone that kicks every other cellphone out theres sorry behind. Sounds like a plan to me :P
I'm up to date with certain technology...but my cellphone? Not so much.
It's rather oldschool. Well, not Richard Gere in Pretty Woman oldschool cellphone way...but about one step up from there.
It's so old infact, that they don't make anything even similar anymore. It's (relatively) clunky, it has no huge keyboard to type and I don't even think that you can download ringtones on it.
And I love it. So much.
It's not a blackberry, or an iphone. It doesn't get emails or pictures. It can't organize my day or tell me how to get anywhere.
But it has reception in an emergency if I need it.
I know how to use it and never have to think too much to find what I need to find or do what I need to do, which - to be honest - isn't much.
It doesn't cost me huge sums of money to have - but it has also never let me down thus far.
AND I can drop it twenty times in a day and it still works.
I don't know why I never jumped on the cell phone bandwagon. Why everyone I see has a new flashy cellphone and I couldn't care less. My cell phone provider on the other hand...can't get it through their heads why I don't want something new and fancy and flashy. They continue to send me notice after notice about how I should REALLY consider getting some new fancy thing - that would probably break to pieces the first time I dropped it, let alone the 28374th time I dropped it.
My old clunky silver flip phone is fine with me, for what I need - maybe I'll jump on the cellphone bandwagon next decade. Or you know, just stick with my ghetto superphone that kicks every other cellphone out theres sorry behind. Sounds like a plan to me :P
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Hiring = Face + Palm
I'm hiring people right now.
Well, let me rephrase that.
I'm wading through emails in an attempt to hire people right now.
And these are the general conclusion that I've come to..
1. I know that you're busy. I know that you just desperately want a job. But you see that little thing over there? That shift key? It makes certain letters have capitals. Just a little old FYI - CAPITALS ARE IMPORTANT. Also, the period key helps to break up your thoughts. Just a little food for thought. I know I'm not perfect, and I know that I make a ton of gramatical errors when I just type type type and don't edit..but me oh my. If I read one more email that says uses no capitals ANYWHERE - not at the beginning, not for the word 'I' or ANYTHING ELSE - I may become a Capital Nazi. For real 'yo.
2. It should be made mandatory that people know the difference between 'two, to and too', 'buy, bye and by', 'hear & here', 'their, there and they're' and all of those other homophones. If I were in charge of the world, you'd have to know these by the age of ten and you'd be allowed a certain number of screwups per year (Hey! No one is perfect - myself included!)..and then..cut. Yeah, deported. FROM THE WORLD. You can go and live on Mars - I hear they don't care about these things - but here on Earth...at least if I was ruling...it'd probably be the most important thing. That and world peace and all of that other stuff...yadda yadda yadda. It's harsh..but I feel it'd work for rectifying this little pet peeve of mine.
3. Know what you're applying for. At least have SOME idea of what you're applying to, don't just apply for EVERYTHING at random. That means YOU Mr. I.live.2.hours.away.and.there.is.no.way.I'd.ever.actually.work.there. and YOU Mr. I.already.have.a.job.and.want.full.time.work.yet.am.applying.for.a.temporary.position. Just so you know, I've already deleted your resumes, because I know that you don't ACTUALLY want to work here and you haven't even considered what job you're looking at, you just saw a new posting on the job bank and sent your resume to the email listed below, without even scanning the posting. Oh - and YOU guys...Mr. I.don't.even.live.in.the.country. - yeah, I've deleted yours too. I'd appreciate it if you discontinued the spam of resumes for temporary jobs when YOU DON'T LIVE IN THIS COUNTRY. I get that living in whatever third world country you live in sucks. And I understand that it would be an asset to you to get out of there, and that life is tough. I'm really sorry that I can't help..but the job I'm hiring for right now is temporary. It's VERY temporary. That means that you flying halfway around the world and needing accomodation is not really at ALL worth your while - or mine. Oh - and you'd need some serious work visas - which just mean more work for me, and are never going to come through. My apologies, but todays tip is 'look before you apply' - trust me, it'll help.
4. If you email your resume in a docx format, that REALLY sucks - because, well, my computer refuses to open those. So send them in something I can open - and you have a WAY better chance of ANYTHING coming from sending me your resume. I've heard SO many people having problems opening docx - so just say no, and then you're one step further. Also - if you send me a blank email with just your resume attached...I get nothing from that. No sense of who you ACTUALLY are, no sense of ANYTHING..and all I can tell is that you've put zero effort into applying for this job...you've opened your email, attached a file and pressed send. No effort what-so-ever on your part...which translates to me..that THAT is the kind of effort you'll give me if I hire you...which...yeaaaaaaaaah...I'm not so interested in.
5. I haven't started doing any interviews yet for this year..but here are a few ideas. Look at where you're going for an interview - AKA - If you're going to a farm and are applying to do work on a farm, wearing red stiletto's is probably not making the best impression. Don't get me wrong - I love me some red stilettos - who doesn't? But when you step out of your car and sink down so that it looks like you're wearing flats because the driveway is full of mud? It gives me hours of amusement and entertainment. And unless I'm REALLY desperate - gives you no job. Something about wearing high heels in mud combined with the look of disgust that your cute new heels are destroyed gives me the distinct impression that you do not do well working at 5am on a saturday morning...probably because it would cut into your Friday night out on the town in your cute shoes. I'm also tempted to wonder how you'd ever get by carrying 60lbs of corn in a bag, or whether you'd be freaked out about chipping a nail lugging around 4 gallon pails of sap through wet snow. If you wear jeans and a nice shirt - and decent shoes - I'm much more likely to hire you on a first impression basis. I get that dressing up is necessary if you're applying for a law firm, a job for a secretary or probably most other jobs...but this is a farm - looking nice is great - wearing heels and miniskirts makes the interview awkward...and likely makes me mock you behind your back.
6. Be polite, be nice - and refrain from making rude jokes - dazzle me with your personality, your passion for doing the best job possible - and you'll probably get the job.
It's as simple as that. I don't think that I'm asking too much...am I? Am I really being that harsh to ask for a semi-acceptable use of the English language, people who actually know what they're applying for and act/dress appropriately - and perhaps even someone who gives a damn about what they're doing?
I sure hope not - or else I have some serious issues with society and the world in general - and maybe *I* should move to Mars. I have no beef with them. Well, except the aformentioned homophone thing...but either way, I kinda like my little home here on Earth and would like to not have to move to another galaxy just to avoid banging my head against the wall.
Well, let me rephrase that.
I'm wading through emails in an attempt to hire people right now.
And these are the general conclusion that I've come to..
1. I know that you're busy. I know that you just desperately want a job. But you see that little thing over there? That shift key? It makes certain letters have capitals. Just a little old FYI - CAPITALS ARE IMPORTANT. Also, the period key helps to break up your thoughts. Just a little food for thought. I know I'm not perfect, and I know that I make a ton of gramatical errors when I just type type type and don't edit..but me oh my. If I read one more email that says uses no capitals ANYWHERE - not at the beginning, not for the word 'I' or ANYTHING ELSE - I may become a Capital Nazi. For real 'yo.
2. It should be made mandatory that people know the difference between 'two, to and too', 'buy, bye and by', 'hear & here', 'their, there and they're' and all of those other homophones. If I were in charge of the world, you'd have to know these by the age of ten and you'd be allowed a certain number of screwups per year (Hey! No one is perfect - myself included!)..and then..cut. Yeah, deported. FROM THE WORLD. You can go and live on Mars - I hear they don't care about these things - but here on Earth...at least if I was ruling...it'd probably be the most important thing. That and world peace and all of that other stuff...yadda yadda yadda. It's harsh..but I feel it'd work for rectifying this little pet peeve of mine.
3. Know what you're applying for. At least have SOME idea of what you're applying to, don't just apply for EVERYTHING at random. That means YOU Mr. I.live.2.hours.away.and.there.is.no.way.I'd.ever.actually.work.there. and YOU Mr. I.already.have.a.job.and.want.full.time.work.yet.am.applying.for.a.temporary.position. Just so you know, I've already deleted your resumes, because I know that you don't ACTUALLY want to work here and you haven't even considered what job you're looking at, you just saw a new posting on the job bank and sent your resume to the email listed below, without even scanning the posting. Oh - and YOU guys...Mr. I.don't.even.live.in.the.country. - yeah, I've deleted yours too. I'd appreciate it if you discontinued the spam of resumes for temporary jobs when YOU DON'T LIVE IN THIS COUNTRY. I get that living in whatever third world country you live in sucks. And I understand that it would be an asset to you to get out of there, and that life is tough. I'm really sorry that I can't help..but the job I'm hiring for right now is temporary. It's VERY temporary. That means that you flying halfway around the world and needing accomodation is not really at ALL worth your while - or mine. Oh - and you'd need some serious work visas - which just mean more work for me, and are never going to come through. My apologies, but todays tip is 'look before you apply' - trust me, it'll help.
4. If you email your resume in a docx format, that REALLY sucks - because, well, my computer refuses to open those. So send them in something I can open - and you have a WAY better chance of ANYTHING coming from sending me your resume. I've heard SO many people having problems opening docx - so just say no, and then you're one step further. Also - if you send me a blank email with just your resume attached...I get nothing from that. No sense of who you ACTUALLY are, no sense of ANYTHING..and all I can tell is that you've put zero effort into applying for this job...you've opened your email, attached a file and pressed send. No effort what-so-ever on your part...which translates to me..that THAT is the kind of effort you'll give me if I hire you...which...yeaaaaaaaaah...I'm not so interested in.
5. I haven't started doing any interviews yet for this year..but here are a few ideas. Look at where you're going for an interview - AKA - If you're going to a farm and are applying to do work on a farm, wearing red stiletto's is probably not making the best impression. Don't get me wrong - I love me some red stilettos - who doesn't? But when you step out of your car and sink down so that it looks like you're wearing flats because the driveway is full of mud? It gives me hours of amusement and entertainment. And unless I'm REALLY desperate - gives you no job. Something about wearing high heels in mud combined with the look of disgust that your cute new heels are destroyed gives me the distinct impression that you do not do well working at 5am on a saturday morning...probably because it would cut into your Friday night out on the town in your cute shoes. I'm also tempted to wonder how you'd ever get by carrying 60lbs of corn in a bag, or whether you'd be freaked out about chipping a nail lugging around 4 gallon pails of sap through wet snow. If you wear jeans and a nice shirt - and decent shoes - I'm much more likely to hire you on a first impression basis. I get that dressing up is necessary if you're applying for a law firm, a job for a secretary or probably most other jobs...but this is a farm - looking nice is great - wearing heels and miniskirts makes the interview awkward...and likely makes me mock you behind your back.
6. Be polite, be nice - and refrain from making rude jokes - dazzle me with your personality, your passion for doing the best job possible - and you'll probably get the job.
It's as simple as that. I don't think that I'm asking too much...am I? Am I really being that harsh to ask for a semi-acceptable use of the English language, people who actually know what they're applying for and act/dress appropriately - and perhaps even someone who gives a damn about what they're doing?
I sure hope not - or else I have some serious issues with society and the world in general - and maybe *I* should move to Mars. I have no beef with them. Well, except the aformentioned homophone thing...but either way, I kinda like my little home here on Earth and would like to not have to move to another galaxy just to avoid banging my head against the wall.
Friday, February 12, 2010
'O Canada
There is just something that brings about a huge amount of national pride..when your country hosts the olympic games.
I've never been terribly atheletic. I'm not big into sports or sporting events.
But I LOVE my country.
I think that it's the greatest place on the face of the earth.
And even though I live NOWHERE near Vancouver..Even though I could fly to Vancouver, Mexico or the UK in almost the same amount of time...it is still MY country...and I am SO excited to be watching these games on my turf. The country is a huge, wide enourmous expanse filled with a variety of amazing people and I will be sitting watching, cheering and filled with national pride...while I wear my red mittens.
Oh yeah I will.
My fabulous cousins when we were at the Olympic Torch Relay where we live :) That's the Olympic torch beyhind them!!!!
VANCOUVER 2010!!!!!!!
Maple leafs forever!!
Go Canada Go!!
I've never been terribly atheletic. I'm not big into sports or sporting events.
But I LOVE my country.
I think that it's the greatest place on the face of the earth.
And even though I live NOWHERE near Vancouver..Even though I could fly to Vancouver, Mexico or the UK in almost the same amount of time...it is still MY country...and I am SO excited to be watching these games on my turf. The country is a huge, wide enourmous expanse filled with a variety of amazing people and I will be sitting watching, cheering and filled with national pride...while I wear my red mittens.
Oh yeah I will.
My fabulous cousins when we were at the Olympic Torch Relay where we live :) That's the Olympic torch beyhind them!!!!
VANCOUVER 2010!!!!!!!
Maple leafs forever!!
Go Canada Go!!
Who Knows Where The Time Goes?
I'm not entirely sure when I grew up.
I'm now staying with my cousin and her dad, who has alzeihmers. Time passes differently for him...he'll ask what day it is and when we tell him..he says 'it's STILL february?' and sighs and proceeds to tell you how it can't be february because it's been February for at least the last six months...and then you know that at that moment, time seems to stretch on forever for him.
And then he'll ask what year it is, or how old someone is and he'll stop, stare, exclaim some form of expletive and then you know, that he has no idea where the heck the years have gone.
It's not unlike how time passes for me I suppose..the days go and go...and then suddenly I look up and time has flown by and weeks, months and years have happened, and I'm still not entirely sure when that happened, when I grew up.
Today was one of those days I woke up - when my little brother celebrated his 22nd birthday. When did I get old enough for my LITTLE brother to be TWENTY-TWO. SERIOUSLY.
Regardless, it does. There is nothing anyone can do to stop it, to pause it, to rewind it...and so like everyone else, we go on...but not only do we go on, we live the best life that we possibly can.
And then, I celebrate the fact that I have had 22nd years with the best little brother that anyone could ever ask for.
Even if you're taller than me, stronger than me, are getting married before me, have more money in the bank than meand are probably smarter and wiser than me you'll still always be my little brother :)
Happy Birthday Kiddo!!!
I'm now staying with my cousin and her dad, who has alzeihmers. Time passes differently for him...he'll ask what day it is and when we tell him..he says 'it's STILL february?' and sighs and proceeds to tell you how it can't be february because it's been February for at least the last six months...and then you know that at that moment, time seems to stretch on forever for him.
And then he'll ask what year it is, or how old someone is and he'll stop, stare,
It's not unlike how time passes for me I suppose..the days go and go...and then suddenly I look up and time has flown by and weeks, months and years have happened, and I'm still not entirely sure when that happened, when I grew up.
Today was one of those days I woke up - when my little brother celebrated his 22nd birthday. When did I get old enough for my LITTLE brother to be TWENTY-TWO. SERIOUSLY.
Regardless, it does. There is nothing anyone can do to stop it, to pause it, to rewind it...and so like everyone else, we go on...but not only do we go on, we live the best life that we possibly can.
And then, I celebrate the fact that I have had 22nd years with the best little brother that anyone could ever ask for.
Even if you're taller than me, stronger than me, are getting married before me, have more money in the bank than me
Happy Birthday Kiddo!!!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
All I Can Do..
I hate feeling powerless. I hate feeling like there is nothing I can do, nothing that I can say to make anything better. It's frustrating beyond belief to not have anything to say, to not know what to do to help someone. I hate when people are going through something and you try to be there for them, but it never feels like it's good enough.
As I was driving from my parents house to my cousins house tonight...I had one of those moments when the perfect song comes on the radio. Which oddly enough...seems to happen quite often in my life. Anyways, so a Chantal Kreviazuk came on the radio...and the words just..fit.
As she sang...
All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long
And the night is coming down on you
All I can do, all I can do, all I can do
And all that I could think about..was how true those words were.
I wish that there was a magic wand I could wave so that no one was ever stressed. Where no one was faced with being upset or difficult decisions. Where growing up wasn't so hard and there was always a way to make life simple and happy.
But there isn't...and I know that. And as much as it's diffcult and hard to come to grips with the fact that I don't have all of the answers, that I can't fix everything...and *gasp* that I don't have magical powers....I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm here. That I can still be here and be a shoulder to cry on. I can do what I can..and even if it's not everything..even if it's not enough...it's still all I can do. And I know it won't solve everything, or for that matter..probably even anything. But maybe it will help. One can only hope..
As I was driving from my parents house to my cousins house tonight...I had one of those moments when the perfect song comes on the radio. Which oddly enough...seems to happen quite often in my life. Anyways, so a Chantal Kreviazuk came on the radio...and the words just..fit.
As she sang...
All I can do is love you to pieces
Give you a shoulder to cry when you need it
When the day is long
And the night is coming down on you
All I can do, all I can do, all I can do
And all that I could think about..was how true those words were.
I wish that there was a magic wand I could wave so that no one was ever stressed. Where no one was faced with being upset or difficult decisions. Where growing up wasn't so hard and there was always a way to make life simple and happy.
But there isn't...and I know that. And as much as it's diffcult and hard to come to grips with the fact that I don't have all of the answers, that I can't fix everything...and *gasp* that I don't have magical powers....I just have to keep reminding myself that I'm here. That I can still be here and be a shoulder to cry on. I can do what I can..and even if it's not everything..even if it's not enough...it's still all I can do. And I know it won't solve everything, or for that matter..probably even anything. But maybe it will help. One can only hope..
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Project Paradise Falls
I was telling my cousin about making my 101 in 1001 list while I was attempting to compile it...and she was asking what sort of things were on it, how I was going to do this or that and the random chit chat that comes with all of these things.
Yadda yadda yadda.
So I picked a few off the list to tell her and she was like..oooh...fun! And generally thought that I had some pretty neat ideas on there. What can I say? I'm AM pretty awesome like that.
We talked about things on the list that she could help me to do (camping, going to a concert, etc. etc. etc.) and we left it at that. We went on the weekend watching movies, eating popcorn and generally enjoying each others company. After we watched 'Up' - which neither of us had seen before..we both talked about how we want to do so much more travelling - and how we needed to save up money to do that...to go to our own paradise falls. If you don't know what I'm refering to..go and rent that movie right now. So good.
Fast forward to a little while later when I arrive back at the house...to find that she has made this:
She's so super cute - and now we're saving our spare change to go on a fun trip together..destination not ENTIRELY decided - but mostly entirely decided..haha. Either way, there are some pretty sweet options in the mix. Perhaps one that will help me get number two, sixty-two, ninty-five, seventy or a number of others accomplished as well :)
As for you number twenty-six? Consider yourself STARTED.
Yadda yadda yadda.
So I picked a few off the list to tell her and she was like..oooh...fun! And generally thought that I had some pretty neat ideas on there. What can I say? I'm AM pretty awesome like that.
We talked about things on the list that she could help me to do (camping, going to a concert, etc. etc. etc.) and we left it at that. We went on the weekend watching movies, eating popcorn and generally enjoying each others company. After we watched 'Up' - which neither of us had seen before..we both talked about how we want to do so much more travelling - and how we needed to save up money to do that...to go to our own paradise falls. If you don't know what I'm refering to..go and rent that movie right now. So good.
Fast forward to a little while later when I arrive back at the house...to find that she has made this:
She's so super cute - and now we're saving our spare change to go on a fun trip together..destination not ENTIRELY decided - but mostly entirely decided..haha. Either way, there are some pretty sweet options in the mix. Perhaps one that will help me get number two, sixty-two, ninty-five, seventy or a number of others accomplished as well :)
As for you number twenty-six? Consider yourself STARTED.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Life Wrinkles
Sometimes I get busy, and I try do a million things at once.
I feel like sooner or later this always happens and I get so wrapped up in things that I don't know where to go or what to do. I sometimes get so caught up in the moment that I forget to actually enjoy that moment. I forget to soak in the good moments and the happy times and end up spending too much time worrying about little things that don't really matter. The little wrinkles in life that get in the way but that in the grand scheme of things, make no difference one way or another. Whether you iron them out or not, it doesn't matter - it's how you kept going regardless of them that means something.
Really, when you THINK about ironing...there are SO MANY OTHER things that you can do to fill in that time.
I could call someone I haven't talked to and wanted to catch up with. I could read a good book. I could take a walk. I could eat a dozen lollipops. Watch the stars. Sing at the top of my lungs. Laugh at ridiculous inside jokes. Eat some chocolate. Cuddle kittens. Bake a pie. Dance like a fool in the middle of the street. Point is? I could do a lot more interesting and exciting things instead of ironing.
Now, there are times when it's necessary - I get it. There are things that need to be ironed...suits worn by boys, fancy whatever that crinkle like mad, your jeans that you pulled out of the dryer and left crumpled in a ball in the corner for three weeks. Not that I've ever had to iron something because of that or something. Erm - moving on.
So yeah.
I guess because I spent the entire year last year "ironing" millionaires underwear - wasting hours of my life..that I realized how many more exciting, fun and more IMPORTANT things there are to life.
I've realized lately and just how much I need to stop trying to do all of this ironing in my life.
I figure that since I've avoided the real thing for the last twenty-four years....I should probably avoid the pointless ironing in my life of a more symbolic nature too. If I learned nothing last year..it's that. Sure, there are some wrinkles that need to go, sure there are things that need to be smoothed over, fixed and dealt with...I still need to do that ironing that NEEDS to be done...I need to work on the big things and make them smooth...but the little things? Ironing the underwear? I need to forget about it. I need to move on and do more important things in my life. I need to stop worrying about the little things, the minor details, the things that don't matter - that won't make any difference in however many years whether they're smoothed over, perfect or NOT.
In the words of Paul..I need to whisper words of wisdom and let it be.
Because there are lollipops to lick, streets to dance in and kittens to cuddle.
The ironing can wait :)
I feel like sooner or later this always happens and I get so wrapped up in things that I don't know where to go or what to do. I sometimes get so caught up in the moment that I forget to actually enjoy that moment. I forget to soak in the good moments and the happy times and end up spending too much time worrying about little things that don't really matter. The little wrinkles in life that get in the way but that in the grand scheme of things, make no difference one way or another. Whether you iron them out or not, it doesn't matter - it's how you kept going regardless of them that means something.
Really, when you THINK about ironing...there are SO MANY OTHER things that you can do to fill in that time.
I could call someone I haven't talked to and wanted to catch up with. I could read a good book. I could take a walk. I could eat a dozen lollipops. Watch the stars. Sing at the top of my lungs. Laugh at ridiculous inside jokes. Eat some chocolate. Cuddle kittens. Bake a pie. Dance like a fool in the middle of the street. Point is? I could do a lot more interesting and exciting things instead of ironing.
Now, there are times when it's necessary - I get it. There are things that need to be ironed...suits worn by boys, fancy whatever that crinkle like mad, your jeans that you pulled out of the dryer and left crumpled in a ball in the corner for three weeks. Not that I've ever had to iron something because of that or something. Erm - moving on.
So yeah.
I guess because I spent the entire year last year "ironing" millionaires underwear - wasting hours of my life..that I realized how many more exciting, fun and more IMPORTANT things there are to life.
I've realized lately and just how much I need to stop trying to do all of this ironing in my life.
I figure that since I've avoided the real thing for the last twenty-four years....I should probably avoid the pointless ironing in my life of a more symbolic nature too. If I learned nothing last year..it's that. Sure, there are some wrinkles that need to go, sure there are things that need to be smoothed over, fixed and dealt with...I still need to do that ironing that NEEDS to be done...I need to work on the big things and make them smooth...but the little things? Ironing the underwear? I need to forget about it. I need to move on and do more important things in my life. I need to stop worrying about the little things, the minor details, the things that don't matter - that won't make any difference in however many years whether they're smoothed over, perfect or NOT.
In the words of Paul..I need to whisper words of wisdom and let it be.
Because there are lollipops to lick, streets to dance in and kittens to cuddle.
The ironing can wait :)
Project Day Zero
I've been working on a list for a while now...things that I want to do, want to accomplish in my life. There are the general 'bucket list' lists of course - and I think that I've always sort of had one of those going in my head...but this list..it's more tangible.
It's written down.
It's measurable.
It's POSTED ONLINE so whole internet can yell at me and throw rotten fruit at me if I don't actually follow through. In other words - there's accountability.
I need deadlines, I need the stress and the pressure (although not too much please - just a little nudge is good) and I love crossing things off lists..
So I thought..why not?
A way to do things that I want to do AND I get the satisfaction of crossing something off a list? I'm SO in.
So anyways, if you're interested..you can find my list here for project day zero - I'll be crossing things off and making little notes as I go long...and I'm sure I'll be updating here with random stories of hilarity, near disaster and other ridiculousness that comes from my attempt to make it through the 101 tasks I've outlined for myself to do in the next 1001 days.
Wish me luck!
It's written down.
It's measurable.
It's POSTED ONLINE so whole internet can yell at me and throw rotten fruit at me if I don't actually follow through. In other words - there's accountability.
I need deadlines, I need the stress and the pressure (although not too much please - just a little nudge is good) and I love crossing things off lists..
So I thought..why not?
A way to do things that I want to do AND I get the satisfaction of crossing something off a list? I'm SO in.
So anyways, if you're interested..you can find my list here for project day zero - I'll be crossing things off and making little notes as I go long...and I'm sure I'll be updating here with random stories of hilarity, near disaster and other ridiculousness that comes from my attempt to make it through the 101 tasks I've outlined for myself to do in the next 1001 days.
Wish me luck!
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Ridiculous Roommates
I have a new roommate.
She's okay I guess...
Thing is though...she always wants to be around me and she's a little clingy at times.
She follows me around - and complains bitterly when I don't inlude her in everything. single. thing. that I'm currently doing.
She thinks that she's so great - always strutting around, acting like she's the king of the castle.
And the food that she eats - uuugggh. Gross. It smells like ew.
She hates her bed, and tries to crawl into my bed with me all of the time - can we say weird?
And the kicker? If I don't get up right when my alarm goes off? She starts punching me. IN THE FACE.
Oh. And I caught her licking my hair while I slept the other night.
Yeah, she's more than a little bit weird.
Good thing she's cute.
Guess I'll keep her ;)
She's okay I guess...
Thing is though...she always wants to be around me and she's a little clingy at times.
She follows me around - and complains bitterly when I don't inlude her in everything. single. thing. that I'm currently doing.
She thinks that she's so great - always strutting around, acting like she's the king of the castle.
And the food that she eats - uuugggh. Gross. It smells like ew.
She hates her bed, and tries to crawl into my bed with me all of the time - can we say weird?
And the kicker? If I don't get up right when my alarm goes off? She starts punching me. IN THE FACE.
Oh. And I caught her licking my hair while I slept the other night.
Yeah, she's more than a little bit weird.
Good thing she's cute.
Guess I'll keep her ;)
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Artsy Fartsy
I'm really not artsy.
I can appreciate a good painting, photograph or other artistic endeavor. I enjoy going to musicals and plays and the like. I like reading good books, this is true.
But I am not artsy in the artsy way.
You know the way I'm talking about.
The way where everything has this deep rooted symbolism behind it...or it's just something that doesn't really seem to make much sense..but yet certain people go absolutely CRAZY over it.
Anywho - I went to this artsy preformance with a friend a little while ago. A friend whose parents had given us the tickets. Free tickets? Free anything? Sign. Me Up. Because...well...why not?
So we went..and were interested to see what it was all about. The first dance act was interesting and rather beautiful - I saw the symbolism which I can only guess was on a fairly rudimentary level. Plus, the dancing was beautiful and it was nice.
And then there was the second act.
Which was so artsy, my mind couldn't wrap itself around it...and my senses were screaming for it to stop.
I'm sorry...and excuse my ignorance...but WHAT exactly is the symbolism of two men holding hands and moving their other hands around as if they're windmills? To an old man with a raspy, awful smokers voice...singing the exact same 6 words over and over again...the entire time. Ten minutes later (or maybe it just felt like it was ten minutes?), they finally stopped windmilling..and continued doing some other random moves. Like rolling around. And bunching themselves into balls and lying there. And then there was MORE WINDMILLING. Over and over and over again. To the Exact. Same. Six. Words.
And I just really didn't get it. And maybe it's because I couldn't move myself beyond the "music"...but holy cannoli...what the HECK was it?
And then - it ended. I breathed a sigh of relief.
And all around me...people were applauding, and cheering...and WHISTLING. And the dancers just took it in, bowed and smiled as if to say...'I know, isn't it just the greatest thing that you've ever seen?'
And the people around us ate it up...while we looked at each other in disbelief wondering what parallel universe we had transported ourself to.
The entire place was filled with a buzz about how ah-ma-zing the last dance was and how they just couldn't believe it...and I sat there going...oh..my god. What's wrong with me? Why don't I get it? I had the distinct feeling that if I got up on the stage and started waving my arms around like a windmil I would be immeadiate boo'd off and ushered out of the building...so what was I missing that these two guys had done that I just didn't GET?
So now I'm stuck with this quandry...where I feel a little bit stupid for admitting that I didn't *get* it like all of these other people did...and I'm left wondering what exactly the other people GOT.
After the show...I was waiting around for a few minutes..and couldn't help but hear people chitter chatter about it. They all seemed to be of the same persuasion..that it was amazing, great, wonderful, striking, etc. etc. etc. But no one said one specific thing about HOW it was amazing or what EXACTLY was amazing...just that it WAS. Well, except for a little girl who while walking by said "and then they hugged - that was pretty funny.." That was the closest I got to understanding the preformance...despite listening in on a whole lotta conversations. No one ever pinpointed what was great or how it was great...just used a bunch of abstract terms smushed together to convey that it was somehow amazing..in a general sense. And the general consensus was that the other two dances (the ones I really enjoyed) were nice, they were okay...but were too simplistic...and didn't TOUCH them like the second one had...yet again...being very vague about what exactly was so touching and wonderful. The whole thing kinda bugged me and got a little under my skin, because i just wanted to know WHAT was so GREAT about the second preforamnce. In case you weren't aware...I'm a REALLY SUPER CURIOUS PERSON.
This all led me to wonder how many people ACTUALLY got what the coreographer was REALLY trying to convey..and wondering just how many were simply playing along...and how many were just as "what WAS that?" in the dark as I was.
It's funny because so often I wonder if people are just putting on this big act - and the other night was such a classic example.
As we left..my friend commented on how that was a very 'artsy' event for a very distinct crowd...and I couldn't help but agree and continue to wonder...was it me? Am I just shallow and unable to see the deeper meaning behind this supposedly beautiful work of art? Why don't I see what this artsy crowd sees? Am I shallow or dumb? What was it?
...Or was some coreographer dude laughing away in his penthouse suite in absolute disbelief that people continue to pay a relatively large amount of GOOD money to see this dance that really was inspired by a drug induced haze?
I'm apt to believe the later.
But that's just me..and as I said before...I'm not artsy.
At least not in that...erm...artsy...way.
I can appreciate a good painting, photograph or other artistic endeavor. I enjoy going to musicals and plays and the like. I like reading good books, this is true.
But I am not artsy in the artsy way.
You know the way I'm talking about.
The way where everything has this deep rooted symbolism behind it...or it's just something that doesn't really seem to make much sense..but yet certain people go absolutely CRAZY over it.
Anywho - I went to this artsy preformance with a friend a little while ago. A friend whose parents had given us the tickets. Free tickets? Free anything? Sign. Me Up. Because...well...why not?
So we went..and were interested to see what it was all about. The first dance act was interesting and rather beautiful - I saw the symbolism which I can only guess was on a fairly rudimentary level. Plus, the dancing was beautiful and it was nice.
And then there was the second act.
Which was so artsy, my mind couldn't wrap itself around it...and my senses were screaming for it to stop.
I'm sorry...and excuse my ignorance...but WHAT exactly is the symbolism of two men holding hands and moving their other hands around as if they're windmills? To an old man with a raspy, awful smokers voice...singing the exact same 6 words over and over again...the entire time. Ten minutes later (or maybe it just felt like it was ten minutes?), they finally stopped windmilling..and continued doing some other random moves. Like rolling around. And bunching themselves into balls and lying there. And then there was MORE WINDMILLING. Over and over and over again. To the Exact. Same. Six. Words.
And I just really didn't get it. And maybe it's because I couldn't move myself beyond the "music"...but holy cannoli...what the HECK was it?
And then - it ended. I breathed a sigh of relief.
And all around me...people were applauding, and cheering...and WHISTLING. And the dancers just took it in, bowed and smiled as if to say...'I know, isn't it just the greatest thing that you've ever seen?'
And the people around us ate it up...while we looked at each other in disbelief wondering what parallel universe we had transported ourself to.
The entire place was filled with a buzz about how ah-ma-zing the last dance was and how they just couldn't believe it...and I sat there going...oh..my god. What's wrong with me? Why don't I get it? I had the distinct feeling that if I got up on the stage and started waving my arms around like a windmil I would be immeadiate boo'd off and ushered out of the building...so what was I missing that these two guys had done that I just didn't GET?
So now I'm stuck with this quandry...where I feel a little bit stupid for admitting that I didn't *get* it like all of these other people did...and I'm left wondering what exactly the other people GOT.
After the show...I was waiting around for a few minutes..and couldn't help but hear people chitter chatter about it. They all seemed to be of the same persuasion..that it was amazing, great, wonderful, striking, etc. etc. etc. But no one said one specific thing about HOW it was amazing or what EXACTLY was amazing...just that it WAS. Well, except for a little girl who while walking by said "and then they hugged - that was pretty funny.." That was the closest I got to understanding the preformance...despite listening in on a whole lotta conversations. No one ever pinpointed what was great or how it was great...just used a bunch of abstract terms smushed together to convey that it was somehow amazing..in a general sense. And the general consensus was that the other two dances (the ones I really enjoyed) were nice, they were okay...but were too simplistic...and didn't TOUCH them like the second one had...yet again...being very vague about what exactly was so touching and wonderful. The whole thing kinda bugged me and got a little under my skin, because i just wanted to know WHAT was so GREAT about the second preforamnce. In case you weren't aware...I'm a REALLY SUPER CURIOUS PERSON.
This all led me to wonder how many people ACTUALLY got what the coreographer was REALLY trying to convey..and wondering just how many were simply playing along...and how many were just as "what WAS that?" in the dark as I was.
It's funny because so often I wonder if people are just putting on this big act - and the other night was such a classic example.
As we left..my friend commented on how that was a very 'artsy' event for a very distinct crowd...and I couldn't help but agree and continue to wonder...was it me? Am I just shallow and unable to see the deeper meaning behind this supposedly beautiful work of art? Why don't I see what this artsy crowd sees? Am I shallow or dumb? What was it?
...Or was some coreographer dude laughing away in his penthouse suite in absolute disbelief that people continue to pay a relatively large amount of GOOD money to see this dance that really was inspired by a drug induced haze?
I'm apt to believe the later.
But that's just me..and as I said before...I'm not artsy.
At least not in that...erm...artsy...way.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Please Stop Taunting Me
Dear American TV;
Sometimes I watch you, when you're playing a show that is something that I think will be amusing, educational or otherwise mind-numbing after a long day. It seems like when I'm at my cousins house, I watch you more than I watch your Canadian counterparts and I'm not quite sure why this is because sometimes, you're kind of a rather big jerk.
I have to admit it - I have some beef with you.
For REAL.
Turns out I'm a little bit upset with you..because...well..
YOU'RE MAKING ME HUNGRY.
And hungry with cravings for things that I cannot have.
Why ya gotta be like that? Seriously - That's not so nice. Not so nice at all.
Every time I turn around there are commercials for restaurants that we've never had in Canada, or that no longer exist in Canada...and the excessive taunting is becoming a little over the top. When you continuously show me commercials for things like Olive Garden, I start to get a little bit annoyed...and after annoyed comes down right angry. Like fist shaking angry. And you don't want me to get fist shaking angry.
You see, I haven't been to an Olive Garden in probably 20 years...and basically forgot about their existence for a LONG time. I think that the closest one to here closed down when I was six or something crazy like that..
But now everytime I turn the tv on, and you're there...and it's all...WHA-BAHM - IN YOUR FACE! OLIVE GARDEN DELICIOUSNESS! WOOOOOOOOOT!
And my tummy is all..mmm...that looks soooooooooooo yummah.
And now, all I want, EVER, beacuse of YOU...is Olive Garden. And I have no idea whether it's actually decent or any good...because I haven't had it in six katrillion years. ACTUALLY. And who remembers whether or not something was good six katrillion years ago. Not me, that's for sure.
Now you have left my cousin and I in quite the situation. We're continuously talking about how we need to drive over the border and find ourself an Olive Garden to fulfill the craving, or at least verify whether or not it's any good. We kind of hope that it's not..so that we can come back to Canadialand and never crave it again. Just so we don't feel the need to roadtrip to the States everytime we see one of those stupid commercials because we're slaves to advertisments and giant conglomerations. That would probably become super expensive, not to mention super-duper time consuming...and generally not such a good life plan.
So long story short - I'm pretty mad at you and I don't know if our affair of mind numbing television can continue if you and your advertising continue to get the best of me.
You should probably stop being such a jerk, so that we can be friends again. There are three options I can think of so that I act can go back to watching random shows on your stations (each with their own ridiculous forms ofentertainment education). You either need to build an Olive Garden nearby, deliver Olive Garden directly to my door OR stop showing mouth watering commercials 24/7
If you could get all over that, I'd really appreciate it.
Love, Erin
Sometimes I watch you, when you're playing a show that is something that I think will be amusing, educational or otherwise mind-numbing after a long day. It seems like when I'm at my cousins house, I watch you more than I watch your Canadian counterparts and I'm not quite sure why this is because sometimes, you're kind of a rather big jerk.
I have to admit it - I have some beef with you.
For REAL.
Turns out I'm a little bit upset with you..because...well..
YOU'RE MAKING ME HUNGRY.
And hungry with cravings for things that I cannot have.
Why ya gotta be like that? Seriously - That's not so nice. Not so nice at all.
Every time I turn around there are commercials for restaurants that we've never had in Canada, or that no longer exist in Canada...and the excessive taunting is becoming a little over the top. When you continuously show me commercials for things like Olive Garden, I start to get a little bit annoyed...and after annoyed comes down right angry. Like fist shaking angry. And you don't want me to get fist shaking angry.
You see, I haven't been to an Olive Garden in probably 20 years...and basically forgot about their existence for a LONG time. I think that the closest one to here closed down when I was six or something crazy like that..
But now everytime I turn the tv on, and you're there...and it's all...WHA-BAHM - IN YOUR FACE! OLIVE GARDEN DELICIOUSNESS! WOOOOOOOOOT!
And my tummy is all..mmm...that looks soooooooooooo yummah.
And now, all I want, EVER, beacuse of YOU...is Olive Garden. And I have no idea whether it's actually decent or any good...because I haven't had it in six katrillion years. ACTUALLY. And who remembers whether or not something was good six katrillion years ago. Not me, that's for sure.
Now you have left my cousin and I in quite the situation. We're continuously talking about how we need to drive over the border and find ourself an Olive Garden to fulfill the craving, or at least verify whether or not it's any good. We kind of hope that it's not..so that we can come back to Canadialand and never crave it again. Just so we don't feel the need to roadtrip to the States everytime we see one of those stupid commercials
So long story short - I'm pretty mad at you and I don't know if our affair of mind numbing television can continue if you and your advertising continue to get the best of me.
You should probably stop being such a jerk, so that we can be friends again. There are three options I can think of so that I act can go back to watching random shows on your stations (each with their own ridiculous forms of
If you could get all over that, I'd really appreciate it.
Love, Erin
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