You know you have issues when...

I can't go a day without spilling or crumbing or globbing on my clothes. Even when I wear "good" clothes, I still manage to get things on them. Like just now, when I was trying to avoid getting my cookie-crumby hands on things, so I wiped them on my black dress pants. I was probably born in a barn, my family is just too polite to say anything.

Singing the blues (aka Boo Hoo Hoo Poor Me)

I'm a bad person. I skipped choir last night, along with the carol festival performance afterwards. But I think my reasons were good - I didn't eat enough during the day (this trying to use up food thing has its drawbacks), had a long cold wait for the bus after work and a harrowing experience trying to walk the half block from the bus stop and up the un-shovelled walk where I stepped in both the obvious tripping holes between stupidly placed boardwalks, and didn't have enough time to practice singing for my lesson today (after putting it off most days for the past week).

I was in tears at the thought of either: walking the half block to my car, cleaning the snow off, driving through the hazardous traffic/road conditions, parking a block or two away (or more, with the carol festival across the street from the practice location), and walking through the snow; or paying for a cab to and from, after I'm already paying far more than I wanted to for this choir that I hate. Screw it. If I'm that upset, and since nobody would miss me anyways, why go?

Oh, and I've identified the awful smell that emanates from the lady beside me - it's stale poop. Not like she missed the toilet, more like permeation from having pooped 6 months ago, set the bucket outside for the summer so it would mellow, then having brought it in for the winter. I doubt that's what happened, but that's what it smells like. She smells like well-cured MANure.

And then I skipped tonight's choir as well. I'm starting to have serious issues about getting around in winter. I need a chauffeur, one that will carry me up stairs and over any kind of slippery snow-covered surface. Added to the traumaticality of hating the cold (I'm usually in tears after waiting for the bus), it just doesn't seem worth it to try to be anywhere I don't absolutely have to be.

Tonight was along the same lines as last night, I was outside for 40 minutes walking (hobbling) to and waiting for the bus, and then took a cab home which cost me all the cash I had, and since that ran late I only had half an hour to find food, eat, get dressed, clean off my car, and get to choir. So I didn't. Plus it was going to be at the same packed location, so I'd park the same couple blocks away and have to walk, freaking about the possible/probable demise of my knees at every step. I wouldn't mind being a cripple so much if it didn't bloody hurt.

Hmm, that was way too much information, wasn't it? You're welcome.

I think today shall be about the ranting

The choir that upsets me on so many levels has struck again. For the christmas concert, each choir member has 4 tickets that we have to sell or BUY OURSELVES. The reasoning for this was that it's our only fundraising and it enables them to buy more music. If you don't want people to die by my strangulating hands, don't make stupid rules. If you're going to charge a music fee, call it a bloody music fee, and make us pay up front. I don't like hidden costs. If I had known that the choir would cost $180 instead of $140, I wouldn't have joined. And also, if I'd known it was terrible, I wouldn't have joined. But the money thing would have saved both of us the trouble.

I hate passing well-dressed women in the hallways at work. I'm cheap and hate shopping, and I'm all over the not having to dress up thing. But every time I walk by put-together manager-esque women, I feel dowdy and uncouth. Stupid guilt. I wonder if any studies have been done on whether guilt is experienced by women more than men. I'd be willing to bet that women win on this one.

The bus was almost half an hour late tonight. I was so cold. I would have been warmer, but one of the people waiting in the store entrance by the bus stop started having a seizure, so I went outside to get out of the way of the ambulance attendants. And then I had to move into the wind to avoid the smoke being blown in my face. Smoking anywhere in public should be illegal. I have no sympathy for people who argue that smokers have rights too. Their rights infringe on mine. Smokers should have to pay higher taxes to cover the extra health care costs they incur. There needs to be a tobacco breathalizer as part of the income tax system. And while they're at it, they can chip in for my allergy pills.

Yo yo yo

I had an urge to work on the scarf I'm knitting for my mom this afternoon at work. I hate havng to work normal hours, I can't sit for that long. And my knee gets stiff and unhappy. Although really, I sit to knit anyways, so I don't know how that would make my knee better. I think the problem here is that I have the attention span of a gnat.

I just had an amazing brainwave. If I don't want to get a real job once I move in with my honey, I can babysit. Because I'm responsible and probably qualified (I have experience! There's nothing better than knowing your childcare person has previously traumatized other people's kids). But now I'm wondering if I should take some sort of Learn to Babysit course. Can't I just point out that my sister-in-law, who lives on the same farm I'll be at for the next 6-10 months, who is a babysitting course teacher and works at a daycare and is awesome at her job, trusts me with her children? If that's not a good reference, I don't know what is.

Oh, I should probably point out that by real job I mean a job outside the house. Because babysitting is definitely not a pretend job, it's hard. Hmm, maybe I should get a real job after all.

I'm amused by strange things

The guy I've been working across the cube-warren-hall from for over 3 months? He asked me today what my name is. Am I good or what?

ISPs and cybertip

So I was reading yesterday that Canada's ISPs are teaming up to help cybertip, an organization that works against child sexual expoitation on the internet. The ISPs are going to install filters to ward against people "accidentally" viewing child sexual exploitation over the internet. And I wondered, who accidentally looks at child porn? And is it really the accidental viewers that are the problem? How does blocking accidental viewing count as a solution? It doesn't do much to alleviate the actual porn. If you're serious about watching child porn, a filter for accidental stoppage probably won't keep you from your goal. It makes me angry. This is not a solution, it's a very minor stop-gap that's being put in place so we can continue to pull the wool over our own eyes. Yes, we're "doing something", sure we are. Reminds me of the government's environmental policies, and will do about as much good.

Yet more political ranting - aren't you glad I voted?

Okay, I don't know who sanctioned this, but it's going to piss off a lot of people. There's a reason nobody could agree to the idea before, considering the many times it's come up. Quebec people don't really want it. The rest of Canada doesn't want it. In fact, if we actually counted the total number of citizens who agree with the notion, there would end up being about 5, and they'd just want it so that the idiots in charge would shut up about the whole situation. Again I say, this change-for-the-sake-of-change government that Other People voted in, it sucks.

Just stuff

Tomorrow I have an all day choir trip, to howl at old people. And I get to not be at work! You can tell how much (little) I love my job by the amount of enjoyment I get from taking a day off. I think I'd like a job where I didn't have to work till later in the day, because then I'd actually get things done around the house. By the time I get home from work, I'm too tired and grumpy and in pain (most of the time, lately), so Doing Things is low priority.

My interactions with some people are excessively awkward, and I was wondering if it's me or them. I figure it must be me, because I don't have that problem with people who are inherently comfortable to be around. I'm selectively weird. That's the problem with having a reflective personality.

Eesh, the guy in the next cube at work said that his son's first teeth were a bad set, when they came in you could scrape the enamel off with your fingernail. So he had to have them all pulled and fake teeth installed. Some days I feel rather lucky.

Lazy food day

I had a craving for sushi (actually, I've had this for about a week or so now) so I went to Wasabi. They have the most amazing bento boxes that are super cheap, at least for lunch. But the downtown location is closed for supper on Mondays. I was so sad. I ordered chinese food from a couple doors down though, so everything turned out alright. Fastest takeout service ever, 10 minutes from ordering to out the door. I'll have to tip better next time.

Political ranting

I have a theory. The party that was voted in last Canadian election (note: I can't remember who it is but I didn't want them in, and I'm too lazy to look it up, and I do know they're led by Harper who I would be happy to kick in the shins) is doing a bad job in part because they haven't been in charge in so many years that they've forgotten what they're supposed to do with actual power. They're used to asking stupid incomprehensible questions in order to put the other party on the defensive. And that certainly doesn't help when trying to make societal improvements.

More rambling

So today I admitted to my cube neighbour that I'm not continuing this job because I'm moving to Lloyd. I'm glad my brain randomly chose that explanation instead of the many versions of "I'm becoming a bum" that I could have postulated. It seems to be a lot more socially acceptable than giving in to the laziness. And it's true, as far as it goes. I'm just not doing that immediately. It's a good thing politeness keeps people from questioning me closely. I'd be even more embarassed.

I wish that commercial chicken soup didn't taste so much like chicken fat. I also wish I didn't know the difference.

Ha! My Mimi Smartypants archive perusal brought up this thing about not being able to give raises. It's funny because at the previous job, where I no longer work thank the gods and where they haven't had raises since I got favoured for one and everyone else passed over, they now give out work bucks. These bucks can be used to bid at the monthly auction for things like: donated vendor items, free work store candy, dinner with the CEO. I like the last one best. Nobody else does though.

Don't you hate rants?

This is ridiculous. How does this make the situation fair? So the phone company has to charge exorbitant prices while the competitor charges next to nothing? And this is going to create a competitive market? I doubt it. It'll make the phone companies in Canada go out of business, which means tons of Canadians lose their jobs, while international competitors take that income elsewhere. Of course, it may be Canadian companies that take some of the business, but that seems rather unlikely. Granted the local phone company may have an unfair advantage here in SK, since they own the network in most of the province, but they've also invested a lot of money into setting that network up. And that network, payed for by SK residents, will go down the drain if people go to VoIP. It may not have been taxpayer dollars, but it's close enough. In my opinion, if regular phone prices get regulated, all phone prices should be regulated to the same. Although I guess as long as the access company can set their own pricing for internet, this system should be okay. In theory.

Story time (AKA gods I'm talking a lot today) and stuff

I just remembered a terrible waiter story from a couple months back. I went for supper with a friend and our waiter was being trained. Gods was he awful. He moseyed around as if the place was empty (which it emphatically was not), he had minimal conversation skills which he kept trying to stupidly employ, and he forgot things and was a general idiot. The crowning glory was that, whenever he came up to the table to ask something, he'd just stand there till we acknowledged him. So several of the times, being in the middle of conversation, we ignored him. And so he stood there for a few minutes. Very uncouth. I doubt he lasted long. At least I hope he didn't.

Holy crock of shit batman. I'm not very impressed with our government lately. Specifically, this government that's all about change for the sake of change. They're starting to look a lot like the American government, giving in to the demands of large corporations for the sake of pocketing more cash. I really wish there was a way for individuals to change what happens in government in a bigger way. We need more independent political reviewing, and definitely more education. Let them know that Canada's population is smarter than that.

Woot!

My manager proposed that we make my last day be Dec. 22, which will work out wonderfully well for spending christmas with my honey. This is exciting. He has all that time off work, and then we go to Mexico, and I'll be done work, and (cue shrill Jaden voice) this is just awesome! Sometimes things don't work out, like the lack of vacation between jobs this summer and the lack of vacation throughout most of the end of my term with the Previous Employer (aka the crappy one). And sometimes they do. I shall commence wiping the silly reappearing grin off my face for the rest of the day.

He mentioned something about if my "plans don't work out". I didn't have the balls to tell him that I'm not really going to another job, since he'd probably then talk me into staying. And that's completely against my plans. That would make my plans not work out, in fact. And I don't like being thwarted.

Stringing together a whole lot of curses, sotto voce

AAAAHHH my knee is acting up again. Back when I first re-hurt it, it was doing this thing where the knee cap would get stuck in a painrific place until I could figure out the right combination of straightening and bending and whacking and walking. It's back today, and I'm not pleased.

Okay, I'm a bit freaked out now. Turns out the chocolate manufacturer Hershey is recalling chocolate bars and chocolate chips due to possible salmonella. There should be laws against that, chocolate should be exempt from causing debilitating diseases/death. And "possible" salmonella, doesn't that mean they confirmed some cases? Or that there has been confirmed contamination for sure in the States and so they told Canada that there may be a possibility, it being all Canada's fault of course. I'm just going by the whole BSC debacle, I'm assuming that's how they do these things.

Today it occurred to me that I don't have a lot of original thoughts or conversation. I tend to go off the topics brought up by other people. Maybe that ex-boyfriend was right when he insinuated that I was just following a friend of mine, that she was the cause of our relationship deterioration. I don't think he was using any amazing insight to determine that, I think he was just being the second half of that saying, "From the mouths of babes and fools." And of course the breakup was her fault, it couldn't possibly have been because he treated me like shit and I finally realized it and did something about it. Blame is a beautiful thing. Or avoision thereof.

I love the marriage of words. It is possibly the only time I ever condone marriage, besides to take advantage of the system. It's just so fulfilling when words come together just right to describe the terrible loveliness that is life. See? I'm actually kind of glad I didn't go into English in university, I think it would have humdrummed the words into becoming a chore, an everyday occurrence. This way they retain their precise mystery. And if you understand what I mean by all that, you and I will get along just fine.

Shopping

I bought a skirt today. It's half brown half orange with bright red swirly embroidery around the bottom. It isn't really my thing, but it caught my eye and was only $7, and it fit. So it had better come in handy when I go to Mexico, or that $7 will be totally wasted.

I was really looking for a long-sleeved collared button-up white shirt for choir. Instead I bought a soft eXtremely low-cut tight brown sweater that was on sale (just for when my honey needs some hugs), and the skirt. I'm terrible at shopping for specific things. But in my defense, it's almost impossible to find plain white button-up shirts right now. Everything has a weird tie below the waist, or a built-in belt, or ruffles, or stripes. I thought I'd found one, but it happened to have a nasty yellow stain right on the front, and it was kind of thin and see-through-ish as well. I'm going to look in the men's section. At least I won't have to worry about ruffles.

Mental Health (or lack thereof)

AKA One of Those Long Rather Detail-Heavy Stories I Sometimes Tell

Did I ever tell you the one about the mental ward in the hospital? A couple months ago, a friend of mine had himself checked into the mental health ward of the hospital across the street from my current place of habitation. And me, being the wonderful giving person I am, decided to visit him a few times, since I live across the street and all. It was convenient. And because it's just across the street, I could walk, which meant I didn't need my wallet/driver's license. I just took my keys. Which was fine, until I realized that after a while of good behaviour on the ward, people can go back to wearing normal clothes. So I made a mental note to take my wallet with me from then on.

And then I went over to see my friend again, but this time I was just going to meet him in the courtyard, one of the public areas of the hospital. Since he had to physically check back at the ward every 30 minutes or so, I followed him back afterwards, as I'd done the other times I'd visited him.

Except the other times I visited were in the afternoon, during valid visiting hours. Turns out (and I knew this, I just forgot) visiting hours only start at 1 pm for the mental health ward. But nobody stopped me from wandering in, I walked right by the front desk, and stood right beside the internal desk as well. I didn't think anything of it until, as I was waiting in the common area of the ward for my friend to check something, a couple patients came up to me and asked if I was new. Um, no, not as far as I know. Nobody's caught me yet, but thanks for checking.

It kind of freaked me out, as well as bringing up the convenient memory of proper visiting hours. So I decided to leave. Except as I tried to leave, the ward door was closed. The front desk nurses at that point have to buzz people out. And the nurse asked me if I'm part of the ward. That really freaked me out, because if you're a mental patient and you misbehave, they don't ask questions. They dope you up and strap you down, and possibly use shock therapy. And me being where I shouldn't have been, without ID, wasn't very reassuring. So I was VERY happy the nurse let me out without anything further. And although my friend was in for another couple weeks, and again for a second stint a couple weeks after that, I didn't go visit him again. Wonderful giving person that I am.

mumbling

It was very quiet at work today. I think 90% of the floor took vacation to complement the statutory on Friday. I like quiet, it means I don't have to worry about people lurking by while I'm waiting for work to come find me.

The stall I was in today ran out of TP in the bathroom at work. I'm extremely glad I carry kleenex. If I ever go to Europe, I'll be taking half a suitcase of toilet paper, just in case. I read too many reviews of European public bathrooms before going to New Zealand, and my behind is way too spoiled to do otherwise.

You know what worries me most about being sick and losing my sense of smell? Whether or not my gas stinks. Because sometimes it doesn't. I don't think this is one of those times.

Now with back issues!

I decided to write my posts each day (or so) and then post them all when I have a chance. So, for your viewing pleasure, I have now posted a whack of stuff. Thank you, thank you very much. (bows while smiling and nodding)

AAAAAAnnnd I'm done. Oh, there are also a couple new links on the side.

Planny McPlans, that's me

I've been reading the archives of Mimi Smartypants, and the slogans thing here kills me. Tongue: The Meat That Tastes You Back!

Speaking (or not) of awkward conversations, my manager mentioned that he'd like to keep us (me and the other temp who started with me) longer than our contract end date. I kind of hedged that I had made other plans. And as he walked away I almost snorted tea out my nose thinking of his reaction if I admitted my plans are to move back to the farm to be a bum. Good thing I was able to avoid that, my tea was still pretty hot.

Opposites

It's really rather embarassing how excited I am about being finished my job and moving back to the farm and going to Mexico. You know you haven't had a vacation in way too long when... And also, just think how much Being A Bum time I can get in. Very exciting, folks.

I had the world's most disgusting sandwich for lunch today. I mistakenly thought it said pastrami instead of salami. And the salami tasted like wet dog. Fatty wet dog. If the flavour hadn't already sogged through the entire rest of the sandwich I wouldn't have eaten it. But I did. And now I'm sad, and burping up wet dog flavour. I think I was happier that time the bread on my sandwich was moldy, because at least then all I had to do was throw away the top piece.

Because I know you wanted to hear me babble

I had a rather weird day today. Evidently I haven't told a lot of people that I'm planning on moving back to the farm, or how I'm planning on moving in with my honey. Or at least not forcefully enough, because I had several instances today of people telling me I should do such and such a thing. In one case it was accompanied with "even though you want to work on your singing stuff." Obviously other people know what I want to do better than I do. I hate being told "You should..." For once in my life I actually know what I want to do, leave me the hell alone.

Oh right. I plan on moving back to the farm after my contract here is up. I've already given notice on my apartment and okayed it with my parental units. I want to focus on my voice exam, because otherwise I will not be able to pass, because there is a serious amount of shit I have to know and be able to do for it. And once I'm finished that, I'll be moving to Lloydminster to live with my honey. I've also okayed that.

Look at me go, I actually have plans for the distant future. Yes, that is indeed my definition of distant future. My puny brain (actually, I just like to say puny brain) can't comprehend anything much further than a year or two. Well, it can, I just prefer not to. Takes too much effort, and has too much potential for worrying.

And also my honey and I, and his sister and cousin, are going on one of those all-inclusive week long resort packages to Cancun. It should be fun. And vacation-y. I'm excited.

Learn something new

Helminthemesis - The vomiting or expulsion through the mouth of intestinal worms.

Rockin.

Complete with Fun Fact

Fun Fact: The middle name of William S. Gilbert, of Gilbert and Sullivan fame, was Schwenck. Isn't that a great middle name? I think from now on everyone should name their children Schwenck. All of them. Schwenck Schwenck Schwenck.

Also, for the record, I'd just like to say that snobby people really piss me off. I miss working with Gilly. Also for the record, I'm rather crusty today/this week. Knee problems, and the knowledge that they're not going away any time soon, plus realizing that some of my pants don't fit again (this is one of the on-again-off-again pairs), partly due to the halloween chocolate and partly to my crappy eating habits, will do that to me. And now I won't even be able to use the exercise bike. Sigh.

Have I mentioned how much I hate not knowing things? I hate being new to a job. Too many things to screw up. I have a lower tolerance for the screwups I make than I probably should, but still...