Everywhere I go these days, it seems all people are talking about is the World Cup. Babes in orange dresses, status updates, uniforms that are dirty, Canadians breaking hearts, blah blah blah. Don't get me wrong, I find it kinda neat to drive around town and see flags hanging off of cars all over the place in our...well, conservative town...but frankly, I don't give a rat's ass about soccer.
However, if you get Lego involved then maybe, just maybe I'll wanna watch. J's to the E, this one's for you(s):
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I try not to be judgemental
It seems that I took after my mother's physical genes of having what I like to refer to as 'I can spend the day working the land and then still kick your ass after' body shape so I tend not to judge people of...size. I myself struggle with my weight but am slowly accepting it for what it is...so long as I have a healthy lifestyle and don't turn slovenly, better to embrace it and work it, right.
So, when I came across this article, I was filled with...well rage:
Woman aims for 1000 pound weight goal
So, when I came across this article, I was filled with...well rage:
Woman aims for 1000 pound weight goal
A 42-year-old mother, who weighs 601 pounds, has her sights set on the scale hitting four digits.
There are so many appalling things in this article but more than anything, what grosses me out the most is that this woman is a mother. Who puts their kids through that kinda torment and not just that, but leaves them without a healthy parent to care for them. Right here, right now, in singledom state, I owe it to myself to care for my body. But should I be in a relationship or take on a parenting role, I all of a sudden take on the added commitment of making sure I'm around to be there for the people I've committed to. Is it just me or is this UBER sick and twisted?More cube farm head shaking
Two work thoughts: You know you're in an older work environment when you go to get paper towel from the kitchen and the magnet on the dispenser is for how to recognize the signs of a stroke. Also, it's quite entertaining when you write your own 'welcome to the team' message and then you don't get copied on it when it's sent out to your new colleagues only to discover this when they show up at your door to 'welcome' you....
Shoot. Me. Now.
Monday through Friday is starting to become a bit more routine. But, while things change daily as to the work load, etc. one thing I can bet on is the daily phone call of one of my cube farm mates that's made loudly enough to be heard, every work day she's there, between 3:55-4:15 pm. It goes something like this:
'Hi Honey, how are you? How was track and field today? Well you tried your best! How's Zachary? How are you feeling? How are your allergies? Okay, well daddy's gonna be picking you up around 6:30, okay? Okay, I love you. Bye bye'
EVERY DAY. I can barely keep my cool on the other side of the fabric wall.
'Hi Honey, how are you? How was track and field today? Well you tried your best! How's Zachary? How are you feeling? How are your allergies? Okay, well daddy's gonna be picking you up around 6:30, okay? Okay, I love you. Bye bye'
EVERY DAY. I can barely keep my cool on the other side of the fabric wall.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Something for the 'to see list'
My long ago colleague and favourite entrepreneur MChen has started a new project with her sister, Serena, to raise money for the Canadian Cancer Society. They do this as their father, for whom I heard many, many, many beyond belief entertaining stories about while M and I worked together (plus, M's a great story teller which only enhances the Papa Chen stories) was diagnosed with cancer.
To support him and raise money, the lassies are doing what they do best...being creative. They've started the D.A.D project. I'll let you go to the site and read up on it. I've bought shirts of M's and drawings of Serena's because the ladies are wickedly talented. So they're working on very reasonably priced prints of their daily drawings for sale.
I quite liked the one from M today about sloths...I love sloths.
But better yet, there was this video:
LOVE IT. Especially the guy at 1:30. Reminds me of Zoot and Animal combined....you know, from the muppets. But really, have you ever seen a cuter animal scratching its ass?
To support him and raise money, the lassies are doing what they do best...being creative. They've started the D.A.D project. I'll let you go to the site and read up on it. I've bought shirts of M's and drawings of Serena's because the ladies are wickedly talented. So they're working on very reasonably priced prints of their daily drawings for sale.
I quite liked the one from M today about sloths...I love sloths.
But better yet, there was this video:
Meet the sloths from Amphibian Avenger on Vimeo.
LOVE IT. Especially the guy at 1:30. Reminds me of Zoot and Animal combined....you know, from the muppets. But really, have you ever seen a cuter animal scratching its ass?
Confession
The guy in the cube beside me is a bit of a nincompoop. He's just, flaky. And chatty. He knocked on my doorway to my fabric box today and proceeded to tell me about his day and all the trials and tribulations of getting something approved blah blah blah blah blah. I've learned that the extent of my engaging only has to include me shaking my head and closing my eyes. Occasionally I mutter 'wow, another culture shock moment'. And I do this because...
I have no FUCKING clue what he's talking about.
I have no FUCKING clue what he's talking about.
I wasted my time in jeuvy
One of the other things that has been a bit of a culture shock since coming back to gov't is the 'lock down' mentality of this place. Sure, we have to herd through the gates where we swipe our passes to get in (kinda like cows on the way to the slaughter house, non?) but there's this new look to everything. Filing cabinets with bars across them and huge padlocks on them or, filing cabinets with dial locks on them - you know, like what a bank has.
But the challenge more than anything is opening the damn things. I had to wait for 3 weeks for someone to come and install a cabinet with a lock in it (the one I had didn't have a lock) and then another few days for someone to come set the combination (to my liking so that was helpful) but I then had to wait another 2 weeks for someone to come show me how to open it...again. But I really didn't feel bad...I had 3 other people try the lock to get it open before the locksmith came in and told me what the 'trick' was with my lock. Apparently, because I chose a second number very close to the number 0, I needed to pass it 3 times instead of 2 as per the instructions I was given on a piece of paper.
*insert sarcasm*
Hunh...well, who wudda thunk it.
Perhaps if I'd only used my time in jeuvy wisely and figured out how to crack vaults would this have been obvious to me.
*insert eye rolling*
But the challenge more than anything is opening the damn things. I had to wait for 3 weeks for someone to come and install a cabinet with a lock in it (the one I had didn't have a lock) and then another few days for someone to come set the combination (to my liking so that was helpful) but I then had to wait another 2 weeks for someone to come show me how to open it...again. But I really didn't feel bad...I had 3 other people try the lock to get it open before the locksmith came in and told me what the 'trick' was with my lock. Apparently, because I chose a second number very close to the number 0, I needed to pass it 3 times instead of 2 as per the instructions I was given on a piece of paper.
*insert sarcasm*
Hunh...well, who wudda thunk it.
Perhaps if I'd only used my time in jeuvy wisely and figured out how to crack vaults would this have been obvious to me.
*insert eye rolling*
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Pain in my ass
Rowing's been interesting the last few weeks. With my sore back, I was out for a few weeks and then, we got a new crop of graduates from the learn to row program. I give 'em credit for coming out but I don't know what baffoons teach them to row because they can't balance worth shit.
Why does this matter? Because if the boat isn't balanced, one side's ores drag in the water and they can't get them out and subsequently, they can catch a crab. Remember crabs from last year? Yeah, those mo fo's suck arse.
Anyhoot, the boat was way off balance. Given that we got out late on account of the sun showers, we did a shorter than normal run, which was a good thing because at one point I thought my ass was going to fall off. No, seriously, I did. Now I don't want to blame the newbies but I'll tell ya, someone referred to it as an octopus for a reason...we just couldn't get our shit together no matter how hard we tried.
So, just before our last 500 m into the boat house, our coxie gave us a break. I took the opportunity to ask a question as you know only I can...the convo went something like this:
Coxie: okay everyone, take a break for a second
Me: Umm, excuse me (from 6 people down in the boat), can I ask a question?
C: sure 3 seat, go ahead
M: Um, why is my right butt cheek hurting so much?
C: Because port side is keeling and you're trying to compensate for it with your body and throwing your body weight. If you do what you're supposed to do and everyone else does, you won't have to balance like that.
M: So it's the boat's fault (btw, this is how we refer to our team - 'the boat') that my ass hurts?
*insert chuckles from the rest of the crew*
C: Yes, your crew mates are the pain in your ass tonight
M: Okay, thanks
Yeah, you know they love me at the rowing club.
Why does this matter? Because if the boat isn't balanced, one side's ores drag in the water and they can't get them out and subsequently, they can catch a crab. Remember crabs from last year? Yeah, those mo fo's suck arse.
Anyhoot, the boat was way off balance. Given that we got out late on account of the sun showers, we did a shorter than normal run, which was a good thing because at one point I thought my ass was going to fall off. No, seriously, I did. Now I don't want to blame the newbies but I'll tell ya, someone referred to it as an octopus for a reason...we just couldn't get our shit together no matter how hard we tried.
So, just before our last 500 m into the boat house, our coxie gave us a break. I took the opportunity to ask a question as you know only I can...the convo went something like this:
Coxie: okay everyone, take a break for a second
Me: Umm, excuse me (from 6 people down in the boat), can I ask a question?
C: sure 3 seat, go ahead
M: Um, why is my right butt cheek hurting so much?
C: Because port side is keeling and you're trying to compensate for it with your body and throwing your body weight. If you do what you're supposed to do and everyone else does, you won't have to balance like that.
M: So it's the boat's fault (btw, this is how we refer to our team - 'the boat') that my ass hurts?
*insert chuckles from the rest of the crew*
C: Yes, your crew mates are the pain in your ass tonight
M: Okay, thanks
Yeah, you know they love me at the rowing club.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Going to the bathroom is an adventure
Yes, I know, a bit of a 'is this gonna be TMI of a blog post' title but meh, you'll get over it.
I've been daily amazed at the culture shock I'm experiencing as a public servant. One of the thing that surprisingly affects me daily are my trips to the washroom.
Like any public washroom, there's nothing special about these ones. Save for the handy hanging file holder where you can put your folders and notebooks if you're making a pit stop on the way to a meeting so they don't have to go on the wet counter.
What my trips leave me jarred with most days are actually the automatic flushing toilets. Yes, the toilets. I admit to being a hoverer. I don't sit on any toilet seats anywhere, save for my own and my brother's (yes, you do clean your toilet before I come for a reason SIL...and I thank you). Well, that's not to say that if I'm travelling in a hotel I don't but I won't if I visit your house, go to a public restroom, etc. It's not a germaphobe kinda thing, it's a 'hey, I can build leg muscles if I am forced to hold them in a semi-squat for a period of time'. Yes, I started doing it several years ago to build leg muscles. Hey, every bit counts! And my rowing is all the better for it.
But I digress. What this means though is that with these new automatic flushing toilets that I just finish going and within a few inches of starting to pull up my pants, the toilet is hyper-flushing. I say hyper-flushing because those puppies have a LOT of sucking...no need for 'courtesy flushing' here! Back to my earlier confession of suffering from ligyrophobia, needless to say, peeing at work is not a good experience for me. Which sucks, to put it simply, because I do some of my best thinking while taking a sanity break from work and end up back at my desk inspired and full of promise. It's that break my brain needs and now, it's getting the equivalent of a shock.
And do you know how I know it's affecting me that much?
I leave the bathroom with my fly down ALL. THE. TIME.
Yeah, that's right, it's like my brain freaks out and wants the hell out of that small space with that loud hyper-flushing toilet and I go so quickly I forget to do up the fly on my pants. I typically do this 1-2 times A WEEK! I don't remember the last time I forgot to zip up EVER, never mind doing it 1-2 times a WEEK!
Beyond that, wearing my geek pass on a clip on my pants has also lead to a bizarre event. While frantically pulling up my pants the other day, the clip came loose and it, pass attached bounced off the toilet seat (that I had just hovered over) and miraculously fell to the floor. I had a few deep breaths to regain my composure at 1) the loud noise and 2) the fact that I almost had to go fishing where I had just pissed. Pleasant thought, I know.
But to top all of this off, what I can't get over is the laziness/germaphobia of my colleagues. To enter the bathroom, we must go through two doors. These, like most public washrooms, have those physically impaired (see, I'm already PC-ified after being a public servant for 5 weeks) buttons so the doors open for you if you just patiently wait a second or two. I'll admit, I've used these before when both of my arms aren't free or I need someone to hold a door for me as I travel with a dolly. But I'll be DAMNED if a gov't slave has to open one of those doors for themselves and touch one of those icky door handles. Almost everyone uses these buttons which in effect slows down their walking speed so it takes them more time to go to the washroom with these delays (more of your tax payers' - and mine, might I add - dollars wasted) not to mention the additional electrical costs and maintenance costs to have these buttons working that are only expected to get a certain number of pushes before requiring maintenance which, with the frequency they are now being used, are not meant to handle that kind of use.
But wait, there's still the kicker.
If that's not bad enough, I have witnessed several people wash their hands and leave the taps RUNNING. No, they do NOT use a towel to turn off the taps - that would be too close to touching them with their freshly washed hands. So they leave it running and punch, hip check or elbow the handicap button to get out of the washroom. And one of the offenders sits on the other side of a fabric wall from me. It takes all my energy not to go over and lick her keyboard and her phone when I see her get up to go. What burns me most is that we work for an aid agency. AN AID FUCKING AGENCY. We dedicate Monday-Friday, 10-2 (what? we need coffee breaks and to leave early and come in late), to helping the poorest and most underdeveloped nations of the world bring themselves up to par with our fair nation. Yet our smug superiority stops at the desks we leave behind so we can waste electricity and water when the people we should be thanking our livelihoods on can't even have that. BLOWS MY MIND.
While I'm not the type to go postal and rage on someone, I have been tempted to post this to the inside of each bathroom stall door above the lock.
To all those who use the handicap button to exit and enter the washrooms and leave the taps running so as to avoid bacteria and germs.
I just soiled on my hands and touched this lock. I'm at your desk right now touching everything as you read this.
I've been daily amazed at the culture shock I'm experiencing as a public servant. One of the thing that surprisingly affects me daily are my trips to the washroom.
Like any public washroom, there's nothing special about these ones. Save for the handy hanging file holder where you can put your folders and notebooks if you're making a pit stop on the way to a meeting so they don't have to go on the wet counter.
What my trips leave me jarred with most days are actually the automatic flushing toilets. Yes, the toilets. I admit to being a hoverer. I don't sit on any toilet seats anywhere, save for my own and my brother's (yes, you do clean your toilet before I come for a reason SIL...and I thank you). Well, that's not to say that if I'm travelling in a hotel I don't but I won't if I visit your house, go to a public restroom, etc. It's not a germaphobe kinda thing, it's a 'hey, I can build leg muscles if I am forced to hold them in a semi-squat for a period of time'. Yes, I started doing it several years ago to build leg muscles. Hey, every bit counts! And my rowing is all the better for it.
But I digress. What this means though is that with these new automatic flushing toilets that I just finish going and within a few inches of starting to pull up my pants, the toilet is hyper-flushing. I say hyper-flushing because those puppies have a LOT of sucking...no need for 'courtesy flushing' here! Back to my earlier confession of suffering from ligyrophobia, needless to say, peeing at work is not a good experience for me. Which sucks, to put it simply, because I do some of my best thinking while taking a sanity break from work and end up back at my desk inspired and full of promise. It's that break my brain needs and now, it's getting the equivalent of a shock.
And do you know how I know it's affecting me that much?
I leave the bathroom with my fly down ALL. THE. TIME.
Yeah, that's right, it's like my brain freaks out and wants the hell out of that small space with that loud hyper-flushing toilet and I go so quickly I forget to do up the fly on my pants. I typically do this 1-2 times A WEEK! I don't remember the last time I forgot to zip up EVER, never mind doing it 1-2 times a WEEK!
Beyond that, wearing my geek pass on a clip on my pants has also lead to a bizarre event. While frantically pulling up my pants the other day, the clip came loose and it, pass attached bounced off the toilet seat (that I had just hovered over) and miraculously fell to the floor. I had a few deep breaths to regain my composure at 1) the loud noise and 2) the fact that I almost had to go fishing where I had just pissed. Pleasant thought, I know.
But to top all of this off, what I can't get over is the laziness/germaphobia of my colleagues. To enter the bathroom, we must go through two doors. These, like most public washrooms, have those physically impaired (see, I'm already PC-ified after being a public servant for 5 weeks) buttons so the doors open for you if you just patiently wait a second or two. I'll admit, I've used these before when both of my arms aren't free or I need someone to hold a door for me as I travel with a dolly. But I'll be DAMNED if a gov't slave has to open one of those doors for themselves and touch one of those icky door handles. Almost everyone uses these buttons which in effect slows down their walking speed so it takes them more time to go to the washroom with these delays (more of your tax payers' - and mine, might I add - dollars wasted) not to mention the additional electrical costs and maintenance costs to have these buttons working that are only expected to get a certain number of pushes before requiring maintenance which, with the frequency they are now being used, are not meant to handle that kind of use.
But wait, there's still the kicker.
If that's not bad enough, I have witnessed several people wash their hands and leave the taps RUNNING. No, they do NOT use a towel to turn off the taps - that would be too close to touching them with their freshly washed hands. So they leave it running and punch, hip check or elbow the handicap button to get out of the washroom. And one of the offenders sits on the other side of a fabric wall from me. It takes all my energy not to go over and lick her keyboard and her phone when I see her get up to go. What burns me most is that we work for an aid agency. AN AID FUCKING AGENCY. We dedicate Monday-Friday, 10-2 (what? we need coffee breaks and to leave early and come in late), to helping the poorest and most underdeveloped nations of the world bring themselves up to par with our fair nation. Yet our smug superiority stops at the desks we leave behind so we can waste electricity and water when the people we should be thanking our livelihoods on can't even have that. BLOWS MY MIND.
While I'm not the type to go postal and rage on someone, I have been tempted to post this to the inside of each bathroom stall door above the lock.
To all those who use the handicap button to exit and enter the washrooms and leave the taps running so as to avoid bacteria and germs.
I just soiled on my hands and touched this lock. I'm at your desk right now touching everything as you read this.
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