Oh Facebook humour, you crack me up

I know, I know - another 'see what I saw and thought I'd share with you' posts. But this is funny, swear! Especially when 'The Church' gets involved.

If Historical Events had Facebook Statuses...

*old man wheezing*

Either I'm classless, it's late and I'm beyond tired making this űber funny OR it really *is* comical...

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

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?

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.

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.

Happy St. Patty's Day

And this is why the average American should NOT be interviewed for TV.



'I wanna kno where da gol at'

Payback's a beyotch

It's 6:28 am and I'm awake. Not because I want to be and not because my alarm clock went off, although it should have but I turned it off for the weekend and forgot to turn it back on last night.

No, I'm up because I was awoken by my next door neighbour and his new girlfriend. For the 3rd time this weekend they have made the noisy case for me to buy a single family home.

And here I thought I was done with this when I moved out of the apartment building. *le sigh*

Epilogue: So on my way out of the driveway this morning I wanted a good look at the unknown vehicle sitting in the double driveway I share with the neighbour because I wanted to see what this operatic singer drove. One of the things my neighbour is notable for is the fact that he has a vanity plate. As in his license plate says his first name and his ex had one that said her first name. Sure enough, he somehow has found someone with a vanity plate that's her last name. Good god. And she also has a beaded rosary hanging from her rearview mirror. Lemme tell ya, a good catholic wouldn't have been making those kinda noises ;o)

Wow, I'm nosey. ;0)

What I don't need to know

I stole this off of someone's Facebook status:

'things to not put on your Facebook status according to the guy on the radio...that you worked out today(it's seen as bragging), where you are (ie. bank line up), how great your sex life is (cause everyone knows you're lying) and anything about your kids (cause no one cares)There were 5 things mentioned. The fifth is not to talk about what you just ate. Now there's nothing left to talk about!'

Love it.

Baby Bump

Relax.

I don't have one.

Although I am getting a woman paunch that could be confused for one but that's laziness, not pregnancy induced.

Anyways, I was chatting with GBack today and we were commenting on all the people who are about to explode (*ahem* JJ!!!!) or recently announcing their pregnancies and he commented on the fact that someone looked like they were getting the 'bump' which for some reason made me bristle. Not that they were getting the bump, but the use of that word. The convo went something like this:

GBack:I saw she was developing quite a bump...but I didn't want to say anything... best not to travel down that road

L: I hate that word

GBack: haha

L: no kidding baby bump - 'Yeah, that's quite the speed bump you've created on the way to your vagina alright'

It's a good thing he didn't have coffee in his mouth. He would have, like he has on other occasions, spewed it all over his monitor.

I *know* he loves having a fort beside mine.

Rattlings from inside the golden cage

I have had a few moments over the past few days to reflect on the golden cage that is my current employment situation.

The first came when I had to get a confirmation of salary for some banking purposes. I almost fell out of my chair when I opened the letter to see that since I started 3.5 years ago, I'm now up 25% in pay from what I made when I started. 25%. That also means I'm making more than double what I made at my previous employer whom I left to work here. That's...um...sick. And not sic as in cool, yo yo homey g. But sick - as in disgusting. And I have all of that to thank to my union who keeps negotiating ridiculous salary increases. On the down side, I actually end up paying them a fairly good little piece o' dough to keep me in those increases.

But do you know what this means? It means that pretty much the only place I can go to get comparable pay is to the government. And we all know how easy it is to get in there. And it'd have to be a 04 or 05 position. So really, I can't really afford to quit my job and go work somewhere else because of the pay cut I'd be taking. Now, if I had a sugar daddy to help me pay my bills so I could have the freedom to move, okay. But right now, on my own, I'm a little bit screwed.

The other came today when I went to buy fully licensed software for my new laptop. I knew that there were institutional rates for these things but I didn't know what the rebate was. So, I got Microsoft Office Professional 2007 and Adobe Acrobat Professional 9. Together, they retail for just over $1000 before taxes ($1040 at Best Buy, $1050 at Staples).

What did I pay? $50. $10 for Office and $40 for Acrobat. The woman who sold it to me did the whole breathing in between teeth thing and said 'yes, but....that's $40'. I didn't want to tell her...I'd even be willing to pay $50! Sheesh!

And yet there are still complainers at work...egads.

How to be cheeky and get your point across

So, I promised myself I wouldn't blog about this until AFTER my birthday and seeing as how it's now 12:06, it's fair game.

I found out this weekend, courtesy of the smallest grapevine in the world (aka Ottawa), that le ex is engaged.

My first reaction was....

nothing.

Yes, nothing. I didn't feel anything. No sadness, no remorse, no jealousy. Nothing. This, to me, is truly a sign that I'm over him. However, this chased an exceptionally bad date on Saturday night (more WHMPC to follow) so there was a little 'oh, 'eff me. I can't even get a good date and he's already getting remarried?' but then I realized that it's a good thing I'm out dating and not settling. Not saying that he is or anything but you know, I'm sure my time will come.

Then about two hours later, it hit me.

What name is this new wife going to have? Her own? Zrudlo (which as far as I know he's still not using)? Or....ALBERTA?!?!?!?!?

While so many things were not great about the divorce, the only thing that ever really fired me up was the fact that he refused to change his name back because apparently 'he's worked hard to build his *ahem* professional retail store manager reputation on it'. I hope, truly hope, someone is the voice of reason and perhaps tries to talk him out of the merits of keeping my name given this new development.

But if not, I think the following evilly crafted and so wish I was less of a lady to actually have the cojones to send it email would to him may get the point across:

Subject: Congratulations

Dear le ex (I'd actually use his name but still like to maintain some anonymity on this blog),

I know it's been quite some time since we last spoke and I hope all is well with you. I just wanted to send you a quick congratulatory note on your upcoming nuptials. While I have yet to meet the lucky lady, I can't wait to have her join the Alberta family and am sure she will carry our name proudly. In fact, I don't think we even have anyone of her name within the family so she may be the first of that name as well - unfortunately not something you too can attest to as the first SA was actually born into our family, not married into it.

Anyways, congratulations and again, I look forward to welcoming her to the family!

L

Yeah, I know...I shouldn't. And I won't. But it would feel soooo good.

Good GOD that's tacky

Okay, so most of you know that I hate, hate, HATE those stupid ribbon magnets that people put on their car for supporting troops, breast cancer, whatever. Not sure what it is about it but I hate them as much as I hate those bracelets that everyone was into a few years ago because of Lance Armstrong and then it took off to every cause - or profit making organization - got into having a coloured bracelet. I guess it's that whole affiliation issue I have...

ANYWAYS, I've seen a max of like 2-3 of these magnets on cars and am driven batty by them and one day just wanna go on a stealing rampage in a Walmart parking lot and then decorate one car with all of them (I won't mention *whose* car I'd like to do that to ;o) ). So when I pulled up behind this truck on the Bronson off ramp at Hunt Club, I thought I'd hit the mecca for that prank...and had to take a pic. God I love my phone...

WoP - Voice Services Update

I was away on photo shoots on Thursday and Friday from work.

I got into my office late Thursday afternoon to see the phone message light working.

It's like the customer service gods are pulling pranks on me, just to get me riled up.

It made me laugh and shake my head.

Green Monster

It's that time of year again - Fall. Yes, I know it's not even mid-August but work has ramped up to full speed and it feels like mid-September, if you can believe it.

And with the new school year comes longer work hours and unfortunately, many a sleepless nights. Last night was the first of such nights. I tried to go to bed around 10:30 and instead, was up and working at the computer by 11:00. I got in 4 solid hours of work - yes, I went to bed at 3:00 am. I don't tell you this to make me a martyr or something, but more so that you understand that when I don't write as much or see you as much or only have interest in spending time on my couch, it's not personal - it's merely survival.

But inevitably it happens. Around 3:30/4:00 in the pm, usually because I forget to eat until about 2 or so (today it was 3:00), I hit it.

The Green Monster:














I've never been to Fenway, but man oh man, the wall is legendary - as is my mid-afternoon stupidity.

So I'm having one of those moments of 'yup, brain checked out' but I figure that considering I worked through my lunch and put in 4 hours last night (and lord knows the anxiety will keep me up tonight - if for nothing other than using the lord's name in vain ;o) ). I'm just hoping this little transgression in writing will give me the mental focus to get back at it for my remaining 11 minutes.

Yeah, I didn't think so either....

This kicks the Darwin fish's....

...ass HANDS DOWN!

(or should I say the Jebus fish?)




















(inside voice: I am SUCH a geek. *le sigh*)

Shout out to Mandy-YO-Sullivan and my SIL for this faboo image. Really, I think what's even better is the message that came with the email:

L,

Took a going to hell anyway photo for you, why not put the nail in the coffin....

SIL

Feelin' a little cheeky

So the health and safety officer comes into our area to inspect it. The conversation goes something like this:

H&SO: Hi, I’m the Health and Safety Officer doing an inspection of your area for any issues. Do you have any concerns?

L: Nope

H&SO: Okay, most office spaces are pretty safe anyways but you know, we’re just checking.

L: Okay.

H&SO: Oh, do you know if you have a first aid kit in this office?

L: No idea. But I don’t know first aid anyways so I’d be calling 4444 and letting a safety officer deal with the blood.

H&SO: (looks on top of cabinet) Oh, it looks like you have one here. And it looks fully stocked.

B (European newbie in adjoining office): I guess it doesn’t matter if we have one because we don’t know it’s there. *insert laughs*

L: Wait, is that that box on top of the cabinet? So really, we could drop it on our heads if we're getting it down anyways?

H&SO: Ugh, yeah, actually. It should probably be mounted on the wall for easier and safer access.

*insert peels of laughter from L, B and G (other office mate) as H&SO leaves vicinity*

Alright, I admit it...

I'm an ageist when it comes to dating.

While I tend to think of myself as pretty easy going compared to some of my friends who have a tacit list of what constitutes someone worthy of dating them (and bizarrely enough they're still single - go figure), I do fall into the princess and the pea/goldilocks category of finding someone of the right age.

Not too old, not too young, aged just right - like a fine cheese.

I didn't really think that of myself until a fellow (male) singleton pointed out that I had age issues. Too young and you've not experienced the same stages of life as I have. Too old and I worry that you're ready to start testing out LazyBoyz to see which one fits your butt as you prepare to let life pass you by. I know, I'm making sweeping generalizations but well, at least I can admit to it, right?

So that's my self-realization on day #2 of my staycation. This is what happens when you're home alone and only have two cats to talk to.

Missing, hunh? Humpf...

My cousin writes a blog. I kinda cyberstalk her because I read what she has to say and never let her in on my own secret blog. I noticed that she puts up a whack o' widgets on her blog and while I like the concept, to me a widget is like a tattoo and while they are all fine and dandy on someone else's blog, my blog, like my bod, is beautiful and interesting enough on its own not to need one. A widget that is. Nor a tattoo on my bod that is. Err....right....

ANYWAYS, she has this widget that shows mug shots of missing children. She's turned her blog into a milk carton or a grocery store bulletin board. Which is fine. I applaud the effort. But someone please tell her she should have selected a different resolution size because images like this scare the bejesus outta me:
























It's like the Ditch People or the People Under the Stairs' offspring got loose. CREEEEEE-PY!!!

(inside voice: I know, I know. One way ticket to hell.)

One way ticket to hell snicker from today

I was going too fast (and the 'offender' too slow) to D&S for this one but the best bumper sticker I saw today read the following:

My boss is a Jewish carpenter.

JJ had a similar experience on the drive in this am as well. Stuck on with packing tape to either side of the license plate on a car she too blew past was Mary on one side and Jesus on the other.

Yup, my chuckles got me that one way ticket to hell this week. And I think JJ's gonna come with me for the ride. AWWW YEAH!

I'm on to you, you parents out there, I'm on to you

This morning I drove out of my driveway and nearly took out more neighbourhood kids than I knew existed on my street.

WTF?

Sure it's spring, sure it's a nice sunny morning out but 10 to 9 am and the street's alive like I've never seen it before?

WTF?

Ahhh, wait a minute, I see what's happened. You parents out there have jacked 'em full of chocolate and then sent them out to play in the street. Let 'em run around out there. Drive the DINKS and singletons crazy with their whoop calls, riding their bikes all over their lawns, drawing all over the sidewalk with chalk, the works. SHARE THE EASTER LOVE.

Well I'm on to you. Haven't figured out what my punishment will be but you keep your eyes on your garden gnomes and Mary's in a tub. 'Cause payback's a bitch.