Darklight's profileConfessions of a Former ...PhotosBlogListsMore  |  Tools Help |
|
|
April 07 Job MarketI don't really want to work. However, since I enjoy living in a house, as opposed to a bus shelter or under a bridge somewhere, sooner or later I will have to work. In preparation, I sent my resume to two places where I knew someone who could recommend me. I figured might get an interview. It would be good practice. I got interviews at both places, which proves that getting a job is all about who you know.
After today's interview, I was offered the job. That has never happened to me before. I'm not really sure I want the job. I definitely don't want to say yes to the job before going to tomorrow's interview and seeing what happens there. So I guess that's what I'll do. February 29 Oh Yeah, I Have a BlogIt's getting pretty dusty in here. A bunch of random stuff for your reading pleasure.
The Weekend to End Breast Cancer
I've been training and fundraising for the Weekend. I've been out doing 10K training walks every Sunday morning, moving up to 15K this weekend. On February 23rd I held a Scrap & Yap to raise money for the weekend and came away with $1350.00. It was a great day. Special thanks to Serdic for his delivery of the delicious ginger sparklers and his generous donation, and to Martin's wife (who doesn't have a cool blog name) for the great lunch. I'm still raising money, so please consider sponsoring me. Speaking of Walking Long Distances ...
I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before but I bought snowshoes this year (I've been threatening to do this for 3 years now) in an attempt to find something to get me through the winter. I'd been out only one with my kids (in an experience that could best be described as "interesting" with Valerie whining the whole time and Isaac running and being a champion snowshoer), but had wanted to go out with some friends. Finally got around to doing that on Sunday (after the 10K walk in the morning). Three of us met up and did the Wolf Trail in Gatineau Park. If you're checking out the map, on Sunday we did up to about the Mahinga Lookouts and then headed back down. The elevation is about 380m at that point. The hills kicked my ass, but the views were incredible and so worth it. I am kicking myself for not bringing a camera. I only managed a few crappy cell phone pictures. Then last night, in a fit of what can only be described as insanity, KW and I braved the frigid temperatures and the dark and headed back up for a night hike, head lamps at the ready. We were the only two people there. Once we got moving, I wasn't cold at all. It was a super clear night with no moon to speak of and the stars were just incredible. This time, we did the whole loop (shhh... don't tell, you're not supposed to do the whole loop on snowshoes) - 8.5K. I could become addicted to this. I'm definitely going back up soon during the day with a camera.
What Should be a Valid Reason to Miss Work (or School)
I think if you have a huge zit, such as the one that is currently taking up a large amount of real estate on the right side of my chin, you should be allowed to stay home from work or school. I mean really, who wants to go out with such a thing taking up residence on their face? And nobody else in the world needs to be subjected to it either. You know they're trying not to stare and tell you "man you've got a huge zit", but it's kind of like a train wreck. They just can't look away.
Unrecognizable
Apparently, I have lost enough weight that people fail to recognize me. A couple weeks ago, I was out at the AcuDetox session when I woman (who happens to be a hypnotist that I used to see) came into the room. After a while, she came over and sat down beside me and said "I'm sorry I didn't come over to say hello to you before. You've lost so much weight I didn't recognize you." My father tells me that he wouldn't have recognized me from my Facebook picture (I dare you to look at it WWJD). Interesting, that is. I have a lot to say on the weight loss subject, so I'll just save the rest for another post.
Darklight Goes South
Minds out of the gutter you adolescent boys. You know who you are. Next week I am heading out to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina for March break. I shall brave airline travel (alone) with my two children. Myrtle Beach is not an easy place to fly to. Getting there involves a flight from Ottawa to Washington DC, a 4 hour wait in Washington, another flight from Washington to Charlotte, NC, a one hour wait in Charlotte and another flight from Charlotte to Myrtle Beach. This with 5 and 6 year old children. I have calculated that we will spend approximately 12 hours in airports by the time we get there (if everything is on time). I pointed out the the person booking my flight that I could drive there almost as quickly. Coming home should be a bit better as we only have to stop in Chicago, although I do question the need to fly west to get east again. But whatever. I have a van rented for our time there (my parents have rented a condo there, so we'll be staying with them, and I wanted us to all be able to get places in the same vehicle). I called the rental company to inquire about whether they have booster seats. "Yes, ma'am, we do," says the woman on the phone, in her slow southern drawl. "Do you have to pay extra for them?" "Yes ma'am they're $15 a day per seat." Highway robbery that. I say "Wow, I could buy them cheaper than that." "Yes, ma'am you could. They're $19.95 down there at Wal-mart. That's what I would do if I were you. Buy them and leave them at the airport. Your children will be perfectly safe in that back seat till you get to the Wal-mart just down the road." The parents are now on a mission to find booster seats. Sadly, apparently they missed a $4 one at a thrift shop that very day. We are staying at the Sea Watch Resort right on the ocean and I am greatly looking forward to an escape from this snow.
I Do Still Write, Just Not Here
I have submitted some short stories to contests and an article to a magazine. While I don't really expect to win or to be published, it's been an interesting experience and I intend to continue. One of the things I've learned from doing this is that I don't really want to write short stories, which has been the boost I needed to get me (re)started on the novel. Apparently the type of writing I do is called narrative or creative non-fiction. Who knew it had it's own genre? January 31 Sexy FruitNo, I'm not talking about you Jimmy, as sexy as you are.
The avacado was revered by the Aztecs as an aphrodisiac. It gets it's name from the word ahuacatl which is apparently Aztec for testicle. I've never given this much thought before, but I guess now that I do think about it, an avacado does look a bit like a (albeit scarily huge) testicle. Kinda wrinkly and puckered. Until you take the skin off. The avacado that is. I have no real interest in skinning a testicle. Eww.
The avacado is (according to this article) one of nature's most perfect foods.
Guacamole. Yum. January 16 Oh GoodieIt was just announced that there will be a network upgrade at work taking place over 3 upcoming weekends. If that upgrade goes anything like the recent roll out of new systems, I predict we might as well all take 6 weeks off because there will be no network for us to use. ImagineHave you ever been sitting in a meeting or something at work, kind of bored and looked around the table at your colleagues and then, to amuse yourself, tried to imagine them having sex with their partners?
No?
I guess I'm a huge weirdo then. January 08 Forward This!An example of the proliferation of stuff which has gotten even worse with the advent of Facebook.
Hello, my name is Joe Blow.
I am 6 (3, 4, 5, 7, 8, but whatever, always young) years old and have <insert horrible illness here>.
<Insert charitable organization or random company here> has agreed to pay <some amount of money> towards my medical costs for every time this is forwarded on.
To those of you who forward this, thank you for your support. For those that don't, remember, what comes around goes around <or other dire warning>.
Thank you, Joe Blow
So, what I want to know is this. How is it exactly, that charitable organization or company X knows when these messages have been forwarded on. Are they monitoring people's SuperWall and FunWall in Facebook? Do they have some kind of big brother program out there that is watching everyone's email activity and counts every time this particular message gets forwarded? Maybe there's some company out there which has been formed with the sole purpose of monitoring the forwarding activity of all the "so-and-so will donate money" emails that are floating around the internet and depositing the money (which comes from where, exactly?) into various people's accounts. I might be missing something really obvious here and denying some kid an extra 7 cents for their head trauma treatment by not forwarding this junk. Somebody help me out. Maybe I'll start my own woe is me email and see how many people forward it (of course, that would require me getting plugged into this big brother monitoring corporation which could be problematic. I wonder how much of a cut of my proceeds they will take). It will read thusly:
Hi,
My name is Darklight and I'm 37 years old. I'm a (nearly) divorced (from a gay man, who I was with for 14 years, and who, at the time of our separation is the only man I had ever had sex with) mother of 2 children, working in a job I hate in order to be able to put a roof over our heads, food on the table and clothes on our backs. I am overweight, never have time for myself, still have zits even though I'm nearly 40, am constantly tired, and never quite seem to have enough money. My sanity is severely compromised by this every day.
Luckily for me, Saving Sanity for Single Mothers has generously agreed to donate 10 cents for every time this message is forwarded. The money will be used to buy margaritas, Swedish berries and eventually to fund trips to tropical locations. All of this will be invaluable in preserving my sanity.
For those of you who forward this message, you have my thanks. For those that don't, UP YOURS! Sincerely,
Darklight
Leg WarmersYesterday I saw this guy walking his dog. Not being a dog person (and not really understanding the attraction to dogs in general, as I find them to be smelly and needy), I don't really know what kind of dog it was, other than it was a biggish dog. Anyway, I noticed that this dog was wearing socks on all its feet. At first this started me thinking about why it is that people want to dress their dogs up in stupid outfits (I realize that people who have dogs consider those dogs to be their babies, I just don't get it, but, hey, I'm a cat person and I have real kids, who haven't drooled on me since they were about 18 months old, who no longer require my assistance in any form to pee or poo, and who will thankfully some day grow up and move out of my house and no longer require me to do everything for them, and will be able to look after me in my old age, which is not to say that they will look after me in my old age, but at least the possibility is there, whereas, a dog is never going to be able to do that. But, I digress yet again.), until I thought that perhaps there is some practicality in dogs wearing socks. First of all, although it wasn't particularly cold outside (the weather having taking yet another weird turn towards spring) I would imagine that a dog's feet must get cold on the winter pavement, so maybe some socks could help with that. And then I thought, given how slushy it is out there, this dog's owner could take those socks off right at the front entrance, thereby eliminating the need to wipe the dog's feet when they get home, or even more annoying, the need to mop the floor of all the wet, dirty, slushy dog prints that would result when the dog got home.
Practically of dog socks aside though, the funniest thing about observing this dog walking event was that one of the dog's socks seemed to have developed a hole and had slid up the dog's back leg. He (she?) looked for all the world like he was wearing a leg warmer. Flashdance dog. I so wish I had a picture to submit. January 04 Coffee ShopThere's this commercial that plays quite frequently on the one or two TV channels that I actually watch. I think it's for diamonds. A sweet little song.
I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you
I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down, I want to come too
This song is called Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg. All you guitar types can get the tab and the rest of the lyrics for it here. December 19 Reasoning and Critical ThinkingMost people know (or are on) Facebook. Those that use it can attest to it's addictive properties. I, myself, quite like it. I've reconnected with a number of people who were important to me. It's a quick way to keep up with a large number of people. Yes, it can be addictive, but like most things, the novelty wears off after a while, and you revert to using it for its intended purpose.
One of the problems with Facebook is that at times, it can be extremely slow. There are no doubt lots of reasons for this -- the sheer number of people using it, all the 3rd party applications that are available, etc. One of the 3rd party applications you can install is called FunWall. This is an application that lets people post videos, pictures, funny messages, etc. to your profile. Recently, the message below started showing up on people's FunWalls. I copied this directly out of someone's FunWall, so typos, etc. are not mine. Attention all Facebook membeRs.
Facebook is recently becoming very overpopulated, There have been many members complaining that Facebook is becoming very slow.Record shows that the reason is that there are too many non-active Facebook members And on the other side too many new Facebook members. We will be sending this messages around to see if the Members are active or not,If you're active please send to other users using Copy+Paste to show that you are active Those who do not send this message within 2 weeks, The user will be deleted without hesitation to create more space, If Facebook is still overpopulated we kindly ask for donations but until then send this message to all your friends and make sure you send this message to show me that your active and not deleted. Founder of Facebook Mark Zuckerberg Of course, people with their Facebook addiction and sheep like attitude immediately start posting this thing to the FunWalls of every person in their friends list. Some people have this thing on their FunWall many, many times. Let's analyze this, shall we. Do you honestly think:
a. That the owners of Facebook think it makes sense to solve traffic problems by chewing up more bandwidth with unnecessary posts?
b. If they did believe for some bizarre reason that generating more traffic was the route to solving slowness problems (in which case, they are stupid, but I digress), they would do this via some 3rd party application that they are not responsible for?
c. That they don't have another way of determining whether you are active on Facebook (like for example tracking when you log in, which, trust me, is all done automatically)?
Please, Facebook users, I beg you, don't repost this thing. I know you love your Facebook and would go to any length to protect your account, but this is really unnecessary and annoying. You don't have to be too computer savvy to be suspicious of this one. Do you also respond to all those "verify" your account information emails you get from so-called financial institutions. Try to apply some reason and logic before blindly following directions. Or I might just have to remove FunWall. December 18 Christmas StuffA Christmas survey, stolen from The Singer, because I can't come up with an original idea lately: Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper. I used to wrap gifts really elaborately, but that was back in the day before I had kids. Real or Artificial tree? I have never had a real tree. Yes, really. My parents had this tree that they bought the year I was born - 1970 for those of you who care. It was bought after Christmas for $10 (I think, I'm sure my mom will correct me) and a few boxes of ornaments came with it. It was one of those trees that the had a center pole with holes to stick the colour coded branches into. They had that tree until a few years ago. Over the years it got pretty rough looking. We used to call it the Charlie Brown tree. It had huge holes that my mom used to stick stuffed animals into to fill up the space. I used to bug my parents to get a real tree, or at least a new artificial tree, but my dad said there was nothing wrong with that tree (we disagreed) and it had sentimental value for him (at first I thought he was full of it, but now I'm not so sure). We never got a real tree because it was too much work and would drop needles everywhere. A real tree, just like a cat, was something I would be able to have when I was grown up and living on my own. Of course, when I was out of my parents house, I ended up living with my husband and he had grown up with real trees and considered them a pain in the ass (sap and needles everywhere), so we never got one (I did get the cats though). So, to this day, I still have not had a real tree. Since my husband and I split up I haven't bothered getting a real tree, mainly because I go away at Christmas and it seemed like a waste. One day, however, I will get one. When my kids are old enough to appreciate the while experience. When do you put up the tree? Mid December usually. This year I put it up on December 15th. I might have put it up earlier, but I was travelling and didn't have time.
When do you take the tree down? January 1st, or whenever I have time. Do you like eggnog? Yes, in small doses. Favorite gift you received as a child? I had a lot of favourites, but the one that sticks in my memory is this. Christmas 1986. We had just moved to Ottawa. This was a difficult transition for me. I had very few friends, but had developed a friendly feud with Martin over hockey. His love of the Oilers annoyed me, so I picked a team I thought could beat them (the Flyers) and became an avid fan. That year my dad bought me a Philadelphia Flyers jersey for Christmas. This was a big surprise, because my dad went out on his own and got this. He didn't typically do Christmas shopping on his own. So this meant a lot to me. I still have the jersey. One of my weight loss goals is to fit into again. The Flyers lost to the Oilers in game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals in 1987. I am still in therapy for the aftermath. Do you have a nativity scene? No Hardest person to buy for? My dad What was the worst Christmas gift ever received? Well ... not to speak ill of the dead, but no doubt it was something given to me by my Great Aunt Ivy. Now sometimes, she did give good gifts, but lots of the time, I was left scratching my head over her choices. Christmas Cards? I like getting them, but I'm horrible about sending them out. I really just gave up the last couple of years. Favorite Christmas movie? How The Grinch Stole Christmas (the original cartoon, not the Jim Carrey thing), hands down, no question. TOWTP downloaded it for me and I watched it with the kids last night. They were riveted. I love it just as much every year. Dr. Seuss in general is just great. He makes up great words (snuv being my personal favourite), and covers touchy subjects in an engaging, non-preachy way (check out The Lorax and Horton Hatches the Egg). When do you start shopping for Christmas? I start in November. I usually finish around December 23rd. I think I'm done for this year, but you never know. Have you ever 'recycled' a Christmas present? Not that I recall. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Turkey dinner, my ex's tourtiere and sugar pie. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I prefer coloured, but my current tree is one of those pre-lit ones (which is just great) with clear lights. It has so many lights on it that it lights up the house on it's own. Every year I think about replacing some of the lights with coloured ones, but it seems like a big job. Favorite Christmas Song? The Skydiggers version of Good King Wenceslas. Travel at Christmas or Stay Home? We (we being me, my kids, my ex and his partner) typically go to my parents house, about 2 hours up the road in Ottawa Valley. My folks, my grandmother, 2 of my aunts, one of my uncles and a bunch of cousins live there. On Christmas Eve my one aunt hosts a family party and we eat, drink, chat and play games. Christmas day there are various dinners at various places. Can you name Santa's Reindeer? Yep Do you have an Angel or a Star on top of your tree? A star. It's very pretty. Multi-coloured. Unlike the tree. Open the Presents Christmas Eve or Morning? One present on Christmas Eve, the rest in the morning. My sister (who is 33) still gets up at some ungodly hour (like 5am) and opens her stocking. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? How busy the malls are. My kids changing their minds about what they want from Santa constantly. Shopping...Mall or online? I do both. I was especially fond of eBay this year. Do you decorate outside for Christmas or just inside? Both. Valerie wants me to get a reindeer for the lawn. Maybe next year. Of course, if next year is anything like this year, snow-wise, the reindeer would be long since buried. Favorite Christmas cookie? Hmmm. My grandmother makes this cookies called snowballs. I only eat them at Christmas and quite like them. Do you own Christmassy clothing or jewelry? I have a nice bracelet my mom gave me. I probably also have some earrings people gave me. Do you believe in Santa? Well, I saw him at the mall on Saturday, so he must be real. November 29 StagnantAs in my blog.
So, I will write this. On Saturday, I'm off to Belgium. I'm scheduled to arrive early Sunday morning, and will need to find something to do with myself. Stores aren't open on Sundays. It turns out that I managed to see and take pictures of most of the landmarks in Antwerp on my last visit. So, I'm thinking about visiting Amsterdam for the day. Or possibly one of the little historic towns in Belgium, such as Bruges. We shall see.
At least in Belgium the temperature is still above zero, and I can't say I'll miss this foolish November weather we're having. This trip will be nothing like my previous trip to Antwerp since I can no longer really drink beer (and esteemed colleague AVA will not be with me). It seems a shame to go to Belgium and not experience the beer, because it really, really, really is good. Of course there's always the chocolate, but I should limit my intake of that as well.
Eventually, sooner than later hopefully, I will put down some of my thoughts about the trip to Shanghai. November 14 Ring TonesToday I have received 2 calls on my cell phone for someone named Dolores. Which of course puts me in mind of that Seinfeld episode ("What's my name?" "Mulva?"). The first person confirmed that she had dialled my number. So either Dolores is giving out the wrong number, or people are readily making the same mistake. She probably sent out an email to a bunch of people with some numbers transposed. My cell phone has reverted back to that annoying "Hello Moto" ring tone. Why does it do that? I must remember to fix it.
At work, my extension is 6134. I get about 10 hang up calls a day, I suspect from people who have neglected to dial the '9' to get an outside number and are dialing 613-4... Who knew there were so many local numbers beginning with '4'?
I used to have a phone number that must have been very similar to one for a doctor's office, since I got several phone calls asking for Dr. Somebody-or-Other. Mostly it seemed like elderly people calling. One day, this woman called to cancel her appointment. No matter what I did, I could not make her understand that she hadn't reached the doctor. I finally just told her that her appointment was cancelled.
It's a grey, windy day out today. Winter will be here soon.
November 05 InsignificantAs I sit here in this meeting room, in the middle of a meeting, looking out over the densely developed city of Shanghai from the 23rd floor of this building, I am struck more than ever by how little this actually matters to me. I know this probably sounds negative, but it isn't. I don't hate my job, truth be told. It offers me a lot of benefits, not the least of which is the ability to be here. I like many things about the work environment. I just feel no passion for the work itself.
I wonder, is like the people I work with enough to sustain me in a job? Maybe for a little while, but not forever. I still need to figure out what I really want to do. November 02 51DTomorrow I leave for Shanghai. Thanks to SeatGuru, I know that I will be subjected to only the normal amount of ass-cramping-ness on the 14 hour and 30 minute non-stop flight from Toronto to Shanghai in seat 51D. Of course, my ass is 25 pounds smaller (or maybe more) than it was last time I was on a plane, so perhaps that will make a difference. I am close enough to the bathroom for it to be convenient, but not so close for it to be annoying. Each seat apparently has power outlets so I need not worry about my laptop dying during the flight. I can play solitaire all I want! When I get tired of that, I can watch my personal TV. I have also stocked up on reading material, snacks and liquids in containers of less than 100mL that will fit into a 1 litre ziplock bag.
Esteemed colleague AVA has pointed me to the XiangYang Market which sells all kinds of cool stuff for extremely cheap. For example, apparently Diesel Jeans can be had for 120 RMB, which is about $15 CDN. According to the Diesel Jeans website, the jeans typically go for anywhere from $130 to over $300 US dollars. I will need to brush up on my bargaining skills, since apparently you can get items for about one-third of the original asking price, and the starting price for foreigners will be much higher.
In other news, I am now down 25 pounds since starting my pre-op diet. Had my first fill last Thursday, and while I can't say I notice much of a difference in terms of the quantity or types of foods I can eat, 3 pounds came off this week without much effort on my part, so I guess it's working.
My 37th birthday came and went. We deep fried turkeys and they were great. Thanks to KW for manning the fryer. Halloween was uneventful - Valerie was more interested in giving out candy than trick-or-treating. We had about 100 kids by our place. I got a pretty decent birthday haul, including the jewellry I bought for myself. Couldn't decide between 2 different necklace/earring/bracelet sets, so I bought them both.
I apologize for the lack of real content here these days. I am sometimes inspired to write, but most of the time I feel like I'd be repeating myself or just whining, so I abstain. I'm hopeful that being in Shanghai will give me some fresh inspiration. Stay tuned. October 11 Sponsored ByI went to a hockey game tonight. Last year was the first year I didn't make it out to a Sens game, so it's been a while. I got to witness the Sens first defeat of the year. All in all, it was kind of like watching the Sens play the Ducks in the finals last year. I kept wondering when they were going to send their farm team home. Up until the end of the third period, the most exciting thing that happened was a piece of the glass breaking with 43 seconds to go in the 2nd. I must say, the last 5 minutes of the game, when the Sens scored twice to make it a real hockey game and not a blow out were fairly exciting. Reminds me of a Sens/Islanders game I saw years ago. The Sens were down 4-1 (or maybe 4-0?) with 10 minutes left in the 3rd. Of course, the arena was emptying out, everybody figuring it was all over and trying to beat the parking lot rush. The Sens scored 3 (or 4) goals in those last 10 minutes to force the overtime. It ended in a tie (no shoot outs back then).
Anyway, a couple of things I've noticed since the last time I was at a game. They now have the ref announcing the penalties into some sort of microphone a la football games. When I heard the first penalty announced (Carolina, 24, Hooking), I thought "That's odd. What happened to the smooth voiced announcer with all the details?" And then a couple minutes later, the smooth announcement was made.
And I also noticed that the last minute of play now has a sponsor. "Pontiac last minute of play in the first period. Pontiac dernier minute de jeu en premiere periode." (cut me some slack on the French spelling and I can't be bothered to find the accents). It's not enough that we have sponsors for power plays, penalty kills, ads all over the boards and around the arena (actually, during the second period intermission, which happened with 43.6 seconds left due to the broken glass, a couple of guys were sticking up a Viagra sign over whatever sponsor was on the boards for the second period), sponsors for all kinds of giveways, people harrassing you to sign up for a Sens Mastercard in the hallway, and sponsors for all kinds of other stuff that I'm sure I'm forgetting, clearly we need the last minute of play to be sponsored as well.
And then, during the last few minutes of the game, they want you to vote for your favourite player by text message. They even put up an example on the big screen. If you want to vote for Alfredsson, you text "Ottawa 11" to some number. I must be old, because I don't understand why one would do this. Why would I pay money to vote for something completely meaningless (leaving aside for the moment the fact that they all, except for Fisher, played like crap so I'd be forced to potentially vote for Rod Brind'Amour or some horrible thing). Maybe somebody can explain this to me. No doubt one of the cell phone carriers is a sponsor and they're just trying to get you to spend more money. October 09 PraiseI recently read an article that cited a study which observed the effects of praise on children. Kids were given a fairly easy puzzle to complete. When finished, one group of kids was praised with "you worked really hard at that." The other group was praised with "you are really smart." Both groups were then offered a more challenging puzzle or the opportunity to do the same puzzle over again.
Most of the kids who were told they were smart opted not to complete the more challenging puzzles. When they were required to complete them, they got more frustrated and gave up more easily than the group of children who were praised for their hard work. That group chose on their own to tackle the more challenging puzzles and were more likely to keep trying to complete them.
When you think about it, in some ways, praising a kid for being smart is sort of like praising a kid for having blue eyes. It's more a statement of fact than anything else. After a while, it's meaningless. And you have to think that at some point, the kid is going to think that you're just full of it (even if you really do think the kid is smart).
So parents, in addition to ensuring that your babies are breastfed until they are potty trained, eat all their vegetables, speak several languages, play the piano like Mozart by the time they're 5 and have David Beckham's potential in soccer, you need to be very aware of the way you dish out the praise. October 06 Fitted SheetsMy mother can fold a fitted sheet so well that when it's folded, you wouldn't know that it's a fitted sheet. It looks the same as a folded flat sheet. She folds sheets so perfectly that the two sheets, flat and fitted, are actually the same size. My ex told me that his mother could do the same. Of course, his mother irons sheets and dish towels (not that I am critcizing those of you who iron your sheets and dish towels -- if you do this because you enjoy the outcome and it's worth the time you've spent, then I don't see a problem. The ex's mom however, was bitter about the fact that nobody else appreciated her perfectly pressed dish towels) so her folding prowess is not surprising. When I was a kid, I figured this was something that mothers could do. I have always equated being a good mother with being able to fold a fitted sheet.
I cannot fold a fitted sheet. No matter how hard I try to be precise, it always ends up looking like I just gave up and rolled it into a ball (even though I didn't). It never comes out to be the same size or shape as its flat counterpart. I would think that maybe it's just practice that's required, but I've been folding my own sheets for over 16 years now, and still, not much, if any, improvement. Perhaps it's part of my spatial awareness problem, although if I had to guess, I'd bet that my mom's sense of direction is worse than my own. It's just something I can't do well, this fitted sheet folding. I know, of course, that the ability to fold a sheet has nothing to do with my capability as a mother, but it's funny how those strange ideas can stick in your head.
Actually, maybe my mom isn't as good at folding fitted sheets as I thought. Maybe in my child's mind, the folding seemed more precise than it was. I will have to raid the linen closet next time I'm there and check it out. And if they are perfectly folded, I'll have to roll them into haphazard balls. Mom hate wrinkles. Hehe. September 15 Under My SkinA small sampling of things that bug me.
August 25 RTFMWhen I moved into this house, the previous owners were "kind" enough to leave me the manuals for a few of the appliances. They left behind manuals for the fridge, stove, microwave, washer and dryer. They did not, however, leave manuals for the 2 things I really needed manuals for: The World's Most Complicated Programmable ThermostatTM and the Alarm System.
While it's nice to have a manual for the fridge and all, generally speaking, I open the door, put stuff in and stuff stays cold. Microwaves, stoves, washers and dryers are similarly easy to figure out, especially when you've been using them for 20+ years.
This thermostat, however, had the power to confound. I think they gave the requirement "write the software for a programmable thermostat" to the uber-geek who sits in his cube muttering to himself and left him alone with it, resulting in the most complicated, gold-plated thing I have ever seen. It comes with a wand. Touch screen type thing. Not at all intuitive. Every one (well, at least everyone with a penis) who has come into my house has had to screw around with it. None successfully. You'd think you had it programmed, then all of sudden it would shoot the temperature up to 29 degrees. One day, I finally figured the thing out. Got it all programmed just the way I wanted it. Had some people over to help with unpacking. I went out to get something from my old place, and some penis person had "re-programmed" my thermostat. Changed it to fahrenheit. Temperature back up to 29 freaking degrees. Oh wait, excuse me, 84.2 degrees. To say I was angry would be putting it mildly. The other day, the need for an alarm system manual became pretty clear. I was awakened at about 4am by a noise. Ba-beep, ba-beep, ba-beep, ba-beep. I couldn't figure out the source of the noise, but it was coming from downstairs so I went down to investigate. When I went to flick on a light, I realized that the power was out, and the alarm system must have felt the need to alert me to this fact by beeping incessantly. I peering at the thing through sleep-blurred eyes in the dark, picked a random key and pressed it. Beeping stopped. I win.
I go back upstairs, crawl back in bed, lie down, close my eyes. Ba-beep, ba-beep, ba-beep, ba-beep. I closed my bedroom door. It only slightly muffled the beeping. Then, there was an intense shrieking from appliances all over the house as the power came back on. Relief. No more beeping.
I was just drifting off to sleep again when ... ba-beep, ba-beep, ba-beep, ba-beep. Damn power is out again. Why does this alarm system feel the need to alert me to this fact in this manner. How can I make it stop? I will rip it off the wall. I am planning it's demise when the power comes back on. I'm sure the power will go out again though, so I sleep on the couch as to be within ripping distance when the alarm starts singing again.
As far as I know, the power didn't go out again. However, I fell very soundly asleep on the couch, with no alarm clock, resulting in a waking time of 11:45am. Just a little late for work. July 24 But What Do You Really Mean?Just for fun, let's start out with a little lyric quoting. From the old Smiths classic, Unhappy Birthday.
I've come to wish you an unhappy birthday
I've come to wish you an unhappy birthday 'Cause you're evil And you lie And if you should die I may feel slightly sad (But I won't cry) Anyway, with that out of the way ...
The occasions of the birthdays of a couple of friends of mine got me thinking about how we, culturally, like to acknowledge and celebrate certain events, particularly things like birthdays and anniversaries. As children, and this is evidenced in my own children, we believe it is our God-given right to have whatever sort of birthday celebration we desire. The thought of not celebrating a birthday, well, it isn't even a thought. The event is planned well in advance. My daughter has her birthdays planned through until she turns 10. She's 6. However, as we get older, sometimes we start to feel that we don't want anyone to "make a big fuss". Maybe we don't want to be reminded that we're getting older, maybe we really want somebody to make a big fuss, but we don't want to admit that we want to be fussed over, or maybe we really don't want to celebrate. And therein lies the problem. Amongst those that claim they don't want gifts or a party or anything special are people who really, really, really do want gifts and a party and something special, but they just don't want to have to ask for it. So when their friends and family honour their wish for nothing, they are disappointed and eventually probably resentful.
I have come to the point of taking people at their word. You say you don't want your birthday acknowledged? Fair enough, I will not mention it. Not easy that -- I'm one of those people that like to celebrate. But I can understand that others may have very real reasons for not wanting celebrations.
As for me, I think that birthdays are special. As an adult, there are so few excuses to engage in a celebration that is all about you. While many people may share your birthday, the celebration of the day of your birth is the only event that you can guarantee will be about you, every year. Millions of people celebrate Christmas, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah. But your birthday party is yours.
So one thing you can almost be sure of -- I will want to celebrate my birthday. I will not be shy about saying so. I will tell you how I want to celebrate my birthday. I will pressure you to attend the event. I don't particularly care about gifts -- not that I don't want gifts, but I truly, most of the time can't think of a material thing I would particularly like, so I'm just as happy with a gift certificate as I am with a card, a meal or no gift other than your presence at the event that I've pressured you to attend.
So you might as well book the date now. This year, we celebrate my birthday on Saturday, October 27th. I don't know what we'll do yet, but I promise you, we'll do something. |
|
|
