Every day, I will share something that makes me think 'Wish You Were Here.'

Monday, December 31, 2012

December 31/12

Happy New Year's Eve!

It's my favourite holiday of the year because it's a time for looking back and letting go, as well as a time for looking to the future and what the year to come could bring.

So to you all, I hope 2012 was kind to you, and I wish you all the best for 2013.

A brand new year...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, December 30, 2012

December 30/12

After a lazy day yesterday, Etienne wanted to get out of the house today, but I took one look outside at the frigid winter winds, blowing snow around, and I would say a snowball had a better chance in hell than I did of going out and about in town.  However I could see he was getting a little bored and I decided to bite the bullet and suggest a dinner out.  He went for the idea, partly because we are running low on grocery components to make full, proper suppers, partly because he could get a gluten-free beer, and I sort of think a small part was that I hadn't really left the house (except for a 20 minute run to the market for milk and bread) since...Boxing Day?  Did I really not leave the house after then?

I admit that I become a total hermit in the winter.  While it's true that I am a sufferer of seasonal affective depression, an isolating condition in and of itself, to be honest, I don't go out in the winter because I hate winter with a passion.  I hate being cold all the time, I hate trying to walk in the snow and ice, and I really, really, really hate the wind.  So it happens that I could be quite content to stay in as much as possible during these awful winter months.

Summer...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

December 29/12

Sometimes, it's better to leave things to fate.

Tonight, as winter blustered outside, Etienne and I were bored inside.  There is only so much European football and junior/spengler cup hockey that can be consumed before something else really needs to happen, lest we lose our minds.  We clearly weren't going out, and there wasn't anything on TV.  No interest in board games or video games, movies became our only option, but neither of us knew what to watch.  We have easily more than 300 movies of DVD and Blu-ray, but we weren't inspired by anything because there was too much choice.

So we left it up to the roll of the dice.

For Birthmas, I gave Etienne a couple of party games, including a game of dice with pictograms on them.  The idea is to roll the dice and tell or create a story based on the pictogram.  A die was cast, and the pictogram was a flashlight.  We had a theme!

From there, I went about selecting 8 or 9 films based on the theme of the flashlight: the choices were dark or suspenseful or heavily featured the actual use of flashlights.  At least one selection had to be a movie Etienne hadn't seen before (a lot of my collection fits that criteria), and one of the films was ruled out because it needed a Region two player, which was in the bedroom, so we whittled the choice down to Hot Fuzz, Dark City, and Cloverfield.  Etienne hadn't seen either Dark City or Cloverfield, so check and check!

The movie choices aside, we've discovered a fantastic way to break the deadlock or find inspiration.

Pictogram dice...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, December 28, 2012

December 28/12

This is going to be a strange one to read because it's going to lack details.  This one's entirely about feelings.

About 15 years ago, something happened that threw the world I knew into a tailspin.  I felt betrayed, angry, confused, uncertain, heartbroken, and I needed a lifeline.  It took months to get over the shock, and years to recover from this event and the resulting fallout.  Life had changed, people in my life had changed, and I grew to accept certain realities and facts, even becoming fairly nonchalant about things. 

Then tonight, like some bad replay, the same circumstances appeared to arise once more, and I fell to pieces again, though not as dramatically as I did as a sheltered 19 year old.  Now 34 and more experienced at living with the fallout from 15 years ago, I didn't feel confused or uncertain, but the feeling of betrayal was so overwhelming this time. 

Within a short time, things changed for the better, but residuals feelings have me seriously questioning the concept of trust.  My feeling of betrayal has largely given way to worry.  I worry about the future.

Facing uncertainty...

...Wish you were here.


Thursday, December 27, 2012

December 27/12

Tonight, someone started a rumor that Chief Theresa Spence went into cardiac arrest and was rushed to the hospital.  This is not true.  

The First Nations chief currently on a hunger strike to protest the Harper Government™ Aboriginal agenda is fine, she is still on Victoria Island, and all is well.

For a few moments as I tried to verify the claim on any news source, I pondered the consequences of the claim being true.  Should Chief Spence suffer seriously or die without having been acknowledged by Stephen Harper himself, I don't know what will happen, but I have a feeling it will not be good.  While the Idle No More movement has been largely peaceful and law-abiding, there are definitely elements of the movement that would spark for sure should she be totally ignored and come to harm.

Instead of thinking of such things, I continue to encourage my fellow Canadians to support Idle No More and Chief Spence, as the issues they are protesting affect all Canadians, particularly regarding the waterways protections being dropped.

An end to the madness of Bill C-45...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

December 26/12

New Year's Eve is my favourite day of the year.  I know it's dead in the middle of winter, and that it quite often ends in a hangover the next day, but I like new beginnings, as well as the one opportunity a year to get all dressed up and play at being sophisticated adults. 

But after New Year's Eve, my second favourite day of the year is Boxing Day.  I'm *so good* at this day.  I always have a plan, I'm usually there just after 8 am and usually done by noon.  I know what stores I prefer, what I'm looking for, and I know what stores to avoid (poor "deals", price point issues).  I have snacks, and I wear clothes/shoes that are easier to get into and out of in order to cut down on fitting room time.  Hell, even my choice of under garments is chosen according to the type of clothing I plan to try on.  When it comes to Boxing Day shopping, I'm a strategic mastermind executing a well-planned campaign.

I admit I have a shopping problem, though in the last year and a half, a precarious financial situation has deprived me of most opportunities to practice my craft (a cruel irony, given that I am, umm..."growing as an individual", and can't properly fit into much of my current wardrobe).  Well, this time out, circumstances have been more fortunate, and I was successful; I made it out of Rideau Centre before the crowds even arrived, conquered The Bay with ease and aplomb, and with the help of gift certificates to two of the best stores in Ottawa (Victoire and Wolf & Zed), I walked away with those signature pieces that people always notice and compliment.  Fancy will remain fancy for another year.  That's right people...Boxing Day got PWNED.

More money...

...Wish you were here.

December 25/12

Man, when Ottawa shuts down for xmas, it doesn't screw around.  Unfortunately, that means when you are out walking around downtown on a freezing xmas day, there is nowhere to step in and warm up.  Etienne's uncle came in from Montreal last night to spend the night, and today, out of both boredom and good-hosting, it was decided that we'd walk around and show him some of the sights of Ottawa.  Yeah, that's doesn't work out well when the sights are closed; at best, we showed him the outside of a bunch of sights.

I find Ottawa is a boring city as it is.  Once you've seen the main sights (National Gallery of Canada, Museum of Civilization, Bytown Market, Parliament Hill, the Canal), there's really not much else to do.  If you love hiking and biking and outdoor pursuits, there is plenty to enjoy, and if you're a family-oriented person, the small-city feeling with safe suburbs is right up your alley.  But if a bicycle is lost on you, and settling down isn't in the immediate future (or distant future, for that matter), well, Ottawa's probably not for you.

Between the cold and the closed-down city, I trudged on, desperately wishing I could move back to Vancouver, or move on to somewhere bigger, more urban, and maybe not so bloody cold!

A chance to escape...

...Wish you were here.

December 24/12

I can never hope to understand how some people can enjoy cooking.  So much work and prep, and on my case, the results are moderately good at best.

In my family, there are degrees of talent in the kitchen.  My oldest brother is a cook by profession; it goes without saying that he's got the talent amongst us kids.  It's somewhat situationally ironic that he went into cooking, as he's prone to stress and cooking is a highly stressful job, but none the less, you give the man a good supply of food and cooking aids, he will put together a delicious multi-course meal.  In recent years, his daughter has shown an interest in and knack for baking.

At the other end of the spectrum, there's my sister, whose cooking, um...deficiencies, are legendary.  We used to joke that she could find a way to mess up boiling water, and if you know her, you've seen her not-infrequent references on facebook to burnt, bland, or boring food.  We've all jokingly begged of her husband on facebook that he stop letting her in the kitchen for fear that she will burn the house down.  Our mother has tried to help out with gifts of George Foreman grills and such to help manage cooking better, but my sister's misfortunes in the kitchen are what they are: a reality.  In the last few years, her youngest son has had a mishap or two in the kitchen that might indicate he will follow in her footsteps.

Then somewhere in between, there's me.  In my junior high, Home Economics was a requirement, and though it's evident I can't sew to save my life (besides repairing holes and replacing buttons...I'm hella good at that), I wasn't a miserable cook, and given the right recipe I'm capable, though uninspired.  And that's what I did tonight.  While Etienne worked hard on a macaroni and cheese recipe that turned out to be quite delightful, I competently managed a pineapple ham and didn't screw up a tray of rice krispie treats.  After all that work, to arrive at edible, competent food just doesn't seem worth all the effort.

A paid cook (for me and my sister)...

...Wish you were here.

December 23/12

We are hosting Etienne's uncle tomorrow for xmas eve, so today was all about cleaning up.  For about three hours, we scrubbed, vacuumed, swept, washed, tidied, and in between, I raced up and down stairs doing laundry in the basement.  By the time it was done, I had a house I could proudly invite company into.

If you're yawning about this entry, you're forgiven, because this is not the stuff of a terribly exciting day. 

A paid house cleaner...

...Wish you were here.

December 22/12

Let's subtitle this one:

The Curious Case of why the fuck did Benjamin Button get a movie?

Sometimes I'm confused by the choices that Hollywood makes regarding movies.

Tonight, for lack of anything better on TV, Etienne decided to put on The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.  He got the DVD, along with some other real celluloid bombs, as part of a Basement Xmas gift exchange at work, so the good news is we did not pay a cent for it.

The movie is based on a short story, so first, Etienne and I were baffled that (a) this short story was made into a movie, (b) this movie was 2 hours 45 minutes long, and (c) this long movie based on a short story turned out to be a pointless, self-indulgent love story that could have been told in an irrelevant short story instead.

What the hell was Hollywood thinking? 

Explain that one to me...

...Wish you were here.

December 21/12

Today I was Idle No More, and I promise to stay that way.

I joined the assembly at Victoria Island that marched to Parliament hill in support of the Idle No More movement and Chief Teresa Spence because I do not support Bill C-45, nor do I support the Harper Government™ agenda related to Aboriginals, the environment, and a host of social issues.

It was encouraging to see so many people there.  As we began the march, I could see somewhere in the neighbourhood of a thousand people, not all Aboriginals, gather in a long ribbon of people, and as we marched, buses of more people who were just arriving would stop and those people would join us. 

But I have to admit, there were things said that really bothered me.  At one point, one of the young men with a megaphone would chant "Whose land?" and the crowd would respond "Our land!" which troubled me because I thought the idea was that the First Nations see themselves as the stewards of the land, not the owners of it.  Perhaps they chanted "Our land" in the sense of this being the land of the people, not Harper's personal stash to dole out as he wills it.  If that's the case, I'm okay with that, but I sensed that there were those among the crowd were chanting "Our land" believing that the stewardship we speak of actually means ownership.

No other movements have coalesced to fight Bill C-45 and it's awful legislation on waterways, so this fight picked by Idle No More and Aboriginals is an opportunity for Canadians to join the fight.

Exercising our rights...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

December 20/12

Gawd, this is one of those weeks when something big is happening at the end of it, and it just seems like the anticipation is completely slowing the drag of linear time to a crawl.  I hate when that happens.  When you are waiting for something, time just drags on and seems to stop all together, but when you need more time for something, suddenly there is never enough. 

It's been a long and draining month and a half, and with the exception of a half-day on Monday, I am looking at near total rest and relaxation starting Friday evening, all the way through to the evil morning of January 2nd.

Last year, I couldn't take any time off due to an HR hiccup with my vacation and sick time, so being one of the few corporeal bodies left in the building over the holidays meant I got assigned to a particularly gruesome, nasty file that literally drove me to contemplate running away and creating a new identity in order to never have to come back to work again.  We got through the very, very worst of it (dark days, my friends...literally...I left work at 9:30 pm a few times) by March, but I swore to myself and to anyone who listened that I would not be in the building for the holidays this year, so as to avoid any possibility of a scenario where a file comes along and 'hey, it's quiet, so it's a good time to start this awful thing!" cropping up again. 

I kept my promise, and my vacation leave was approved, so of course all I have to do is get through tomorrow (big things happening, stay tuned) and Monday morning, and I'll be free!

Dark days (literally)...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

December 19/12

No matter how much you tell yourself that you need to put in effort to deal with someone with whom you have a personality conflict, you just can't help but feel smug when those moments occur which vindicate your point of view.

Today, I was dealing with a product that I've gone round for round with someone over, and I received the signal that I was right earlier this week, not the other person.  It's petty, and I knew it instantly, but you would not believe how much that vindication bolstered my faltering mental well-being. 

Work has been a large source of stress, and the discomfort I feel due to certain working relationships has really aggravated this year's bout of seasonal depression, but the good news is it is nowhere near the scale of utter despair that working at INAC gave me, so there is still hope that solutions could be found to resolve my current situation.

The adult in me recognizes how petty it is to silently gloat over someone in an adversarial position about being right, but the little devil on my shoulder doesn't care!

Solutions to personality conflicts...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

December 18/12

I got spoiled today!

When I went down to collect Etienne at hometime, I didn't notice a big black bag on his desk until he handed it to me; it contained a medium sized present, brightly decorated in Winnie the Pooh xmas paper, for me!  Another Birthmas offering :)

I lugged it home, all excited to know what it was, but when I got here, I was surprised again by a package waiting by the front door, for me!  Since Etienne didn't know anything about it, I knew that meant it had to be from Baby K and her house of boys, which meant it was my birfday/xmas present...hot damn!  After the unhappy day at work, two surprises!

Etienne was concerned about the package from my sister, as it was from Amazon.ca, and he had placed an order just today, so I ripped right into that one first.  Baby K. and her boys had given me the Blu-ray of To Kill a Mockingbird, and a hard cover copy of the book.  While this might not sound exciting to some people, you have to understand that I LOVE reading, and that book was one of the few from my mandatory reading in high school that really and truly appealed to me (along with The Chrysalids by John Wyndham).  I had to read some horribly awful "classics" in high school, such as The Lord of the Flies, which I hated so much, I refused to finish it, and actually took zeroes on the assignments for that unit in English; but Mockingbird is something special.  The themes of youth and innocence, mixed with racism and benevolence...how could this story not touch my heart and mind?

It turned out that Etienne had ordered these for me as well, but luckily, he had only just done so, and was able to cancel those items before the order had been filled. 

As if those gifts weren't enough to nudge me on a sentimental journey through time, Etienne's gift tripped a full-blown nostalgia: he had given me a home BINGO game!  Complete with the little balls and the cage, a set of cards, chips, and a ball board.

You see, as a little girl in the North, Bingo played a significant role in my life.  Mummy called Bingo for the local TV station on weekends to earn some extra cash, while I sat with Gramma, playing it.  I remember thinking about how important I was because my Mummy was on TV, and I loved playing Bingo with Gramma, who started to buy me my own cards as I got older and could sit through a game.  I can remember running from the back wing of the seniors' home where Gramma lived to the front wing to buy cards for Gramma on Saturdays.  On at least one occasion, Mummy took me to the station with her, and I watched Bingo being called live in the tiny storefront studio of the local broadcaster.  There were very few leisure activities available in small town NWT on those frozen sub-Arctic weekends, but Bingo was one of them, and its prevalence in the community has woven itself into my memories,

So many wonderful memories...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, December 17, 2012

December 17/12

Holy fuck, I'm just had my ass handed to me in the worst Scrabble drubbing I've ever experienced.  Etienne started the game with a bingo bonus, and from there, it got so much worse.  I don't recall how poorly I did, but his final score?  408. 

The luck of the draw was not on my side, as every time I reached into the bag, more fucking vowels came out, taunting me with their high-usage/low-value properties.

I never should have taught him to play defensively.

Board game dominance...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

December 16/12

Tonight, I bothered to reach out and speak to a politician.  Why?  Because I didn't feel like being patronized.

Senator Patrick Brazeau is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I would expect that he would have even the most rudimentary understanding of why First Nations (and Aboriginals, writ large) are very upset by the passage of bill C-45, an omnibus which included changes to the Indian Act, but more crucially allowed for protections to be removed to 2.5 million waterways in Canada.  As usual, whenever he wants to prove he isn't actually very good at his job as a Senator, he took to Twitter to pick a fight about the actual legislation regarding the changes to the Indian Act included in C-45, possibly hoping to deflect from the real issue which is the lack of consultation with Aboriginals on the waterways changes. 

You might be wondering why the government would have to consult with Aboriginals, and as simply as possible, this is why: waterways are an essential component of many activities, practices, and traditions of the Aboriginal peoples (e.g. hunting, trapping, fishing) that are integral to the distinctive culture of Aboriginal peoples, and time and time again since the Constitution has come into effect, multiple courts have ruled on and upheld findings that the government has a duty to consult under section 35 with respect to said activities, practices and traditions related to hunting, trapping, fishing, and land claims.

When the government goes and removes environmental protections to all by 82 lakes in Canada, that opens the door to activities which can and may actually impinge on or harm the rights of Aboriginals to pursue their traditional activities.

Of course it's difficult to say all of that in 140 characters, but I made it my business to inform Mr. Brazeau that we're on to his deflection tactic of pointing to Indian Act changes on voting on land surrenders to distract from the real issue of duty to consult, not because I disagree with the omnibus and find the rationale for it (Jobs and Growth) to be precarious and suspect, but because he was doing it in just the most patronizing and obtuse fashion.

At one point, he asked someone how many pages C-45 was, as if that somehow proves whether or not someone has read the whole thing--for someone who fancies himself to be social media savvy, he hasn't quite caught on to this google thing (by the way, there are 430 pages per the Queen's Printer)--even if I haven't read a lot of sections (including truly drear tax code changes and changes to PRPP), I'm smart enough to google and find the PDF of the Bill and read (1 of 430) at the top of my Adobe Reader toolbar.  Hell, I even went so far as to find the pages (226-229) of the bill related to his deflecting argument.  Yes, Mr. Brazeau, it appears you found the magical bullet of asking for a page count to prove whether the document has been read or not.

Senators who aren't bad at their job...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

December 15/12

I hate it when I lose my day to a migraine.

All of my mother's kids are migraine sufferers, but my brother and I don't even come close to the migraines that plague our sister.  She has frequent and very painful migraines since she was three years old.  Growing up in our house, we learned not to make a big deal out of things like holidays and stuff because stress could trigger an episode.  I remember when I was barely in my teens, my sister took me aside at home one time, and showed me an injector, and taught me how to inject her with a therapy she was trying, just in case our mother wasn't home to do it.  To this day, she could end up in the emergency room at any time to have the symptoms treated, and she's on a regime of pharmaceuticals, as well as having taken part in experimental therapies throughout her life.

My oldest brother and I managed for most of our lives to go without, but when I was about 19, I started experiencing them.  Around the same time, he and I talked about our symptoms, and we arrived at the conclusion that we were occasional migraine sufferers.  His are more frequent than mine, but not as frequent as our sister's, and not as painful, given that she suffers the worst of us all. 

Yup.  Today I woke up with a migraine.  This one took several hours to subside, but with ibuprofen and ice and heat and voltarin and tiger balm and rest, I finally won, but I lost my whole morning and a big chunk of my afternoon. 

A cure for migraines...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, December 14, 2012

December 14/12

What can I say today?  I said it best earlier in one of my tweets...

"My heart is so, so broken right now by what happened in Newtown, CT. All those innocent children, all those dedicated educator"

Details are still somewhat sketchy, but at this point, 20 sweet babies have been murdered, along with 6 staff, and the gunman is dead, along with another person associated with the gunman.

I will never understand why...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

December 13/12

Today is Sergei Federov's birfday.  Happy birfday, former Red Winger!

Back in his heyday with the Red Wings, I once read a sports writer's analysis of the value Federov brought to the team, and what stuck out most in the article and in my mind was that this writer noted that, due to his *monster* sized contract, it worked out that Sergei Federov was being paid USD$666 per minute that he was on the ice.

Per.  Minute.

Hot damn, you don't even what to know how many hours it would take me to gross that amount, and I'm pretty well paid.  I'm called upon to make decisions that will impact on the lives and livelihoods of Canadians, a responsibility I take very seriously, and it works out to roughly just short of three days at my current salary to earn what he did in a minute of ice time, playing a game.  I can only gasp in despair to think of how many weeks it would have taken me to earn $666 when I worked for just above minimum wage and struggled through university on three jobs so I could attain the education I would need to go on to the life I lead now.

I don't begrudge him his good fortune, he worked hard to get to the top of the league, but when I think of how much we as a society not only condone the outrageous salaries of professional athletes, but further compensate them with adoration and adulation, I just know that there's something really f'ing wonky about that situation.

Priorities...

...Wish you were here.

December 12/12

Today is supposed to be 12/12/12.  I guess it's something special, something about yin and yang being in balance more than any other time, but if that's the case, I wonder what yang there is to balance my yin headache.

Almost from the time I came home from work, I'd had a stupid headache, so there's got to be some good counterbalancing it.  I know it has to exist, if Taoism has any sway with you, but right now, I'm not capable of finding it.

Pain relief...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

December 11/12

I guess the cat is out of the bag.  After years of going below the radar to most people, it's quietly become public knowledge that I do in fact have a birfday. 

Another year...

...Wish you were here.

December 10/12

My gramma was born on December 11th, and since her death, for a very, very significant reason known to myself and a few people, that day has been the hardest day for me to deal with.  Every year since 2001, I've struggled with my grief.  I couldn't call her and cheerfully wish her a happy birthday, and hear her voice and her laugh.  Even now, I tear up thinking about it.

Tonight, just when I thought I had given up the ghost finally, it became clear that I will always have a whole in my heart on that day.  I had hoped that it would hurt less with each passing year, but I suppose, given the circumstances, it never really goes away.

To Christine, my namesake...

...Wish you were here.


Sunday, December 9, 2012

December 9/12

Writer's Block: a condition in which an author loses the ability to produce new work.

Or, if you are a writer who has faced the block before, you won't mind me calling it what it really is: Creativity making us its bitch.

Several months ago I started a short poem which I had hoped to finish in time for a particular event, but it remains unfinished as a combination of stress, depression, and lack of creativity has sort of sucked away my will to write.  These days, I write stuff for work, and after a long day of struggling over endless edits of a House Card, I have nothing left for more pleasurable pursuits such as creative writing.  

This weekend, I pulled out that taunting piece, determined to finish it, but alas, it wasn't until a half hour ago that I even cracked the book to look at it once more.  I made some minor edits to fix the cadence, but I'm afraid I'm no closer to finding the right way to express exactly what I am trying to say.

A solution...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

December 8/12

'Tis the season to be baffled.

I dragged poor Etienne around downtown for about 4 hours this afternoon, trying to spend $50.  It could not be done.  The things I wanted to buy were well beyond the $50 mark, and the things I could afford, I would have to line up for at least 10 minutes or more to pay for.  That's the trouble with having a birfday so close to xmas; I doubt anyone would be nearly as irritated about shopping for a birfday present on a Saturday in June as they would be on a Saturday in December.

At the end of the day, I walked home with my $50 still tucked away in my wallet.

Bummer...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, December 7, 2012

December 7/12

The theme of my day seems to have been "Son of a bitch, how can people be this stupid?!?!?"  It's a sentiment that can be applied to so many things I've read/heard today.  I won't go into great detail, but a brief, non-exhaustive list of moments where I experienced this theme in action includes:
  1. Two Australian DJs committed a stupid, immature, and thoughtless prank on the hospital where the Duchess of Cambridge is receiving treatment that has resulted in one of the nurses committing suicide...the prank itself was stupid, but the apparent lack of understanding that they could seriously harm the jobs/livelihoods of people really shows these people haven't got the first clue about empathy;
  2. In the wake of the suicide, people are trying to justify or absolve the Australian DJs of responsibility for the prank and the subsequent suicide, which genuinely makes me fear that empathy is becoming extinct;
  3. Listening to that fucktard Rick Santorum give the most blatantly bullshit, pathetic excuse for swaying Republican senators to vote against ratifying the UN treaty of persons with disabilities (Read up on it...this scumbag goes in several different, incoherent directions which just proves he has no understanding of law or how it works, despite having a law degree);
  4. Jim DeMint; enough said.
I could go on, but you get the idea.  It hasn't been a bad day for me; but it has been one of those days where I've seen and heard enough stupidity to really give me pause to wonder and worry about the fate of humanity.

More understanding...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

December 6/12

I'll admit, I'm not the easiest employee to manage on occasion.  Unfortunately today was just such an occasion.

We have to do these ridiculous performance and learning agreements at work, which are not structured very well, and so are a real pain in the ass task that just gets in the way of me doing actual work.  In the past, under my former manager, this task was still unpleasant, but she was good at managing me through it, and we were both okay with the final product.

This year, I have a new manager, and she and I do not have the easiest working relationship.  I've gone from enjoying a rather high level of trust under my former manager to being managed in a way that makes me feel as though I'm being marginalized, and my experience and expertise challenged.  These circumstances are not lending themselves to an easy outcome on this performance and learning agreement situation, and unfortunately, when this kind of tense meeting occurs, the result is my mood goes to shit for the rest of the day.  If it wasn't for the holiday party that followed this meeting, I would be an unbearable bitch right now. 

I'm making an effort to be productive and helpful, and so far it's paying off by way of a better working relationship with my new director than I anticipated.  Recently, I really questioned the value and purpose of a proposed projects, but if it must go forward, I hope I put forward constructive critiques and suggestions for making it a stronger product.  This director is willing to work with me in a way that we're both comfortable with.  So I swear, I am trying!  I'm not always successful, but hey, Rome wasn't built in a day.

More patience...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

December 5/12

Wheeeee!  The best part about celebrating with someone is that even when you part ways for the evening, you are filled with enough joy (and in my case, liquor!) to keep that feeling of celebration going.

Today is my friend's birfday!  He and I go all the way back to our University of Alberta Model United Nations days, and as it happens, we have been lucky enough to maintain contact and see each other on occasion.  While this in itself is enough for a WYWH moment, it's actually the funny part that happened after that I'm talking about tonight.

After we left the birfday drinks, Etienne and I headed to the Sir John A. for food.  Not long after we were seated, I noticed that a colleague/friend was sitting at a table near by, having drinks with his friends.  He's a nice guy, and we always exchange hellos when we pass by each other at work.  We've been out in social settings with him, but generally the drinking for all happens concurrently; I've never run into him when he appears already well on his way.  He spotted us after a while, and for some inexplicable reason, he got up to head over in our direction, and oddly, I stood up in response.  In one of those "Is this happening?" moments, he and I hugged.  What the hell, right!  We're all feeling jolly!  But it was funny, because never before did it occur to either of us to hug.

You really have to smile at those unexpected moments in life...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

December 4/12

I'm sorry, but I'm about to get indian on your asses.

Today, something extraordinary happened.  Today, the First Nations in this country served notice to the Federal government that it has gone a step too far.

As I speak tonight, parliament is voting on amendments to bill C-45, an omnibus, so-called "Budget Part 2" bill which, like all other similar omnibus bills of the Harper Government™, goes beyond what any reasonable person would consider to be budget items, and includes legislation that it shouldn't.  This time around, the big item being rammed through is an act to remove environmental protections for 2.5 million waterways in Canada.  When all is said and done, 82 lakes and waterways in this country will be protected, and wouldn't you know it, 90% of those left protected just happen to be in Conservative ridings, particularly those of the "Lake Country" variety.  Toadslime Tony Clement's riding alone gets 10 of those protected lakes.

The not-so-funny thing is that this is being rammed through without proper consultations with Aboriginals, which, in case you aren't familiar with the Canadian constitution/context, are a legal requirement under the constitution (Section 35).  All laws must be vetted to determine if they will significant;y impact on Aboriginal rights.  And seeing as how fishing, hunting, and trapping are considered traditional Aboriginal activities that are protected by treaty rights, you can guess how the First Nations might be a little ticked now that the waterways that provide them with their bounties are now vulnerable to environmental intrusions.

Furthermore, this obligation to consult has been upheld by the Supreme Court of Canada in Mikisew v. Regina.  So really, I have no fucking clue why the government thought they'd be able to get this one by Canadians in general, and Aboriginals in particular.

Tonight, I watched as a group of Chiefs entered Parliament and demanded that Natural Resources Minister Joe Oliver listen to them.  He had least had the courtesy to come out and listen as Chief Wallace Fox of Onion Lake First Nation served his ass with notice that this will not be allowed to come to pass, but in response, he gave a rather pathetic rendition of his Question Period cards by rote, and was called out for it as being disrespectful.  He returned to the Chambers, and some of the Chiefs, clearly frustrated, tried to enter the chambers, but were stopped by a security guard.

This whole episode brought back that awful feeling in my stomach that I used to get when I worked for INAC.  It was the feeling of hatred and self-loathing.  I am a woman of both First Nations and Metis descent, and it just disgusted me to my core to work at INAC and know how little care or respect this government has for Aboriginals.

Tonight, I feel fiercely proud of those Chiefs.  It doesn't take Aboriginal ancestry to feel it...any Canadian who opposes the government's agenda with regards to waterways should feel it too.  Tonight, a group of Canadians let us all know they were done with being ignored.

Pride...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, December 3, 2012

December 3/12

I'd like to apologize to the Canadian taxpayers tonight.  This morning, it took some unknown force that I've never felt before to drag my tired ass out of bed and get ready for work.  It wasn't will power, or a desire to go to work--I wasn't pushing myself to achieve or rearing to go.  There's no way to describe this mystery force; the closest I can come is an apathetic sense of obligation.  It was automatic.

The problem is that this is not the most conducive state to work in, and I'm afraid I wasted your tax dollars today, staring at a deck.  I managed to get to page 8 of the deck...around 3:30.  And I honestly can't remember much of today, which means I did not accomplish much today.  It's so bad, whatever is going on, that I had to take out the garbage and recycling this evening to feel like I've done anything of any value today.

A sense of purpose...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

December 2/12

Today is my dad's 65th birfday (it's official...he's a senior citizen!), and one thing that has usually meant in my house growing up was it was the day to haul out the xmas tree and decorate.  I'm not sure when that's happened, but it became something of a tradition for a while.

Unfortunately, I spent many xmases in the service of the retail sector, and it's been policy everywhere I've worked that come store opening on November 12th, up go the decorations and on go the endless, maddening xmas carols on repeat.  In an 8 hour shift, you could hear 6 or so versions of Jingle Bells, or the same version 6 times.  That, plus some of the most obnoxious behaviour from customers is enough to make one really reconsider the value of xmas, or in some cases, even despise the damn holiday.  I think you can guess how it turned out for me.

I've been working on accepting xmas cheer since I've escaped the retail sector, but in truth, I don't think I'll ever reach the point of enjoyment that I had when I was young and innocent and retail-free. 

My box of xmas stuff is down in the basement, just waiting for me to pick it up and get things going.  But I suppose I'm having trouble with getting into the spirit this year, with my financial woes and battling a worse-than-normal bout of seasonal depression this year.

The Spirit of the Holidays...

...Wish you were here.

December 1/12

Every year, millions of people around the world mark December 1st with remembrances and marches, all with the best of intentions, to remember World HIV/AIDS Day.  Also with the best of intentions, we hear world leaders and activists speak in ubiquitous platitudes about the fight against HIV/AIDS, both the disease and the stigma, and how we will win.

This year was no different, except that I started seeing headlines saying that 'X person' believes being HIV/AIDS free is a generation away.  And I started to get truly uneasy about it.  Sure, medical and scientific advances are moving along at a relatively fast clip, but how can people say we will be a generation away when we can't get current generations to understand the least simple ideas of sex education?

On Friday, ThinkProgress.org released a story about Mississippi's governor Phil Bryant arguing that teens don't care about birth control; well, Phil, you and the evangelical community reap what you sow.  Mississippi experiences the highest rate of teen pregnancy, and I would bet my last dollar that the state's rate of STIs among teens is also not something to brag about. 

What's the link between wiping out AIDS in a generation and teen pregnancy in Mississippi?  Simply this: we will never overcome the spread of HIV/AIDS as long as people remain woefully uneducated or criminally misled about Birth Control.  When you are taught that condoms *increase* the spread of HIV, so you'd better just be abstinent, you are not going to seek out birth control.  And that, folks, will lead not only to more babies having babies, but more STIs and HIV getting around.  It's going to take a generational overhaul from top to bottom, all generations alive today, to meet this idea that AIDS will be beaten in a generation.

The fight needs to continue.

Proper Sex Education...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 30, 2012

November 30/12

There are certain things...very whimsical things...that will never cease to make me smile. 

Tonight I smiled because I heard a clip of Make Someone Happy by Jimmy Durante.  If you haven't heard it, or at least haven't heard it for a while, go YouTube it.  Jimmy Durante was an amazing talent, and he interprets that song in a way that makes you just feel good about love.

Goodnight, Mr. Durante, wherever you are...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

November 29/12

There was a moment this evening, on the bus, when I found that I was totally anonymous. 

I wear sunglasses, yes, even in the dark, because I have a dry eye condition, and they help shield my eyes from the cold air.  I will frequently been seen wearing them at work, on the bus, in malls, cars (under the safest conditions), and while I have gotten curious looks in the past for wearing sunglasses at night indoors before, it's not often that they somehow act as an invisible shield, rendering me outside of the vision of most everyone around me.

It was all at once safe and familiar, and disheartening and spooky.  Safe and familiar because I miss being able to disappear into a faceless crowd and not run across a person I've ever seen before, as I did in big cities; disheartening because it means I've become wallpaper in the eyes of so many strangers, allowing for anything to happen to me with little notice.

You'd think a young woman in sunglasses on a bus in the dark, cold evening would draw a raised eyebrow at least.

Disappearing act...

...Wish you were here.


Wednesday, November 28, 2012

November 28/12

As petty as this sounds, today, I was vindicated.

There has been this task at work that I've resisted doing, despite my manager's insistence, because, if you know me at all, I don't like to waste my time, especially in pursuits that I consider to be tantamount to reinventing the wheel.  I've been pushed to do this task even though I haven't wanted to because while I might advocate for a particular thing, I've learned by now that the direction comes from the top down, not from the bottom up; why waste my time (when I have so many other projects related to this file that need my attention) working on something that I know I've already done in one format which will not likely be the direction senior management will want to go in.  I've done my job by researching, developing, and presented the options; let the decision-makers pick based on what I've provided.

Today an unrelated situation finally occurred that spurred a meeting on this project, and the options preferred were not the ones I would have thought would sell.  Had I gone ahead and done the work my manager wanted me to do, I would have had to start over again almost entirely.  I don't mean to be obstinate at all; I just feel that my time would be better spent if I get the proper direction and then start.  As a policy analyst, sometimes I need to lead, other times, I need to seek direction.  My strength lies in my ability to know when are the times to lead and when are the times to follow direction.

Tomorrow, I'll feel alright because I'll go in to work and start working in earnest on this project, knowing where I should be going with it, instead of feeling resentful because I started the work already and it turned out to be not what I should have done.

Trust in my process...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

November 27/12

Oh wow, time flies.

While I was cleaning out my papers in the office on Sunday, I came across my PhD application documents and I realized that it's about that time for me to get moving on my applications this year.  Which means it's time to re-tool my proposed thesis work because if there's one thing I do know, it's that there are few options available in Canada for studying end-of-life decisions.

Back in 1994, Russel Ogden, a MA Criminology student at Simon Fraser University (one of my alma maters) was studying assisted suicide among persons suffering from HIV/AIDS, and his ethics proposal noted he offered his informants absolute confidentiality.  His research and thesis proceeded, but once it was done, he became the first researcher in Canada to be subpoenaed by the Coroner because they wanted to know what he knew about a death.  He refused to testify, and was eventually vindicated, but not before the SFU administration and ethics committee virtually abandoned him.

Since that time, the ethics committees have come to be guided by, in my opinion, a fairly conservative Tri-Council policy which scares most supervisors away from supervising students wanting to look at assisted suicide or medically hastened death in Canada.  I know this because I originally proposed a Master's capstone project on the issue and was adamantly warned off it by my supervisor.  Instead I went with organ donation rates in Canada. 

Now, in light of the BC court decision in the Taylor case, what is really needed is academic study into the policy development and implications of a right to die law.  I just have serious doubts that the academic world is prepared to move ahead and catch up with public opinion on this one, which is no better than the refusal of politicians to address the issue.  Without proper study, the issue will never be adequately addressed, and poor policy could result from the dearth of academic, peer-reviewed study.

But I'll keep trying.

Determination...

...Wish you were here.

November 26/12

I hate when people try to pardon a crime by lessening its severity when compared to another situation.

Okay, by now, most people are aware that Rob Ford was found to have contravened the civic act on conflict of interest, and the judge has ordered his removal from office in 14 days.  This all stems back to his use of city letterhead to solicit donors for his football foundation.  The magic dollar figure here is $3,150.  He was warned not once, not twice, but seven times to repay the money by the Integrity Commissioner.  He did not, and instead, he stupidly chose to not only speak to a motion before city council about whether he could keep the money and not pay it back, he voted on the motion

His legal defense was pathetic ("I didn't read the act, so I didn't know I was contravening it), and the judge rightly busted his balls, citing that time-tested adage that ignorance is not a defense...especially given that Ford swore he would carry out the duties and responsibilities required by a city councilor and mayor four times.  All of this is just fodder for this post, because my real beef is that John Stall, a so-called "political commentator" on 680 News radio in Toronto went on City TV News tonight and defended Ford by arguing that "$3,150 is not a lot of money, hey, at least he's not the Mayor of Montreal who did worse!"

Descriptive Moral Relativism at its most pathetic. 

Yes, let's teach our kids and normalize this idea that a political figure contravening a legal act to ensure a more fair and accountable system to citizens is okay when it's only for a little bit of money instead of a lot.

The fact is that both mayors committed acts that contravened the conflict of interest act.  It's irrelevant that one did so for so little money.

So to you John Stall, on a day when there are plenty of stupid things said and heard, especially in reference to this case...to you I award the win for the "Pull Your Head Out Of Your Ass And Stop Being An Idiot" Moment of the Day.

Less stupidity in the world...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

November 25/12

I really hate Sundays.  Sundays are chore days, when all the stuff we ignore or don't have time for during the week has to get done, and today was no exception.  The laundry was piling up, the kitchen needed cleaning, the dishes needed washing, the cats needed fresh litter, the recycling had to be taken out, and as if that wasn't enough, Etienne's been after me to deal with the pile of filing and such in the office.

So after traipsing up and down to the basement with a grand total of six loads of laundry and all the other fun stuff (Etienne did the recycling), I had to mentally prepare myself for the office.  The stack was small, only over a foot high, and much of it was already sorted, but wow...such a pain in the ass.  And it's actually such back-breaking work because you have to sort and up and down and file and lift.  Eventually I managed to whittle it all down to what fits in a large shoe box, and I told Etienne that he'd have to wait until I did my annual file clean-up in January for the rest.  My back was too cranky to continue.  And so was I.

Sundays suck...

...Wish you were here.

November 24/12

Tonight, I did something out of the ordinary. 

I went to an art auction.

With Etienne staying home, I was finally free of my near-constant monitoring of the cats since Thursday night, so I got dressed up and went to the Odawa Friendship Centre with Maureen and Sayyedya, where they fed up and entertained us (If the guy in the costume asks if he should invite the ducks to his wigwam, yell 'NO'...it's just a gateway to duck homicides), and finally, they turned a room full of people loose with bidding cards and sold some Aboriginal art.

To be blunt, Max's situation has put me in debt by a lot, so I had no money to spare for art, and even if I did, much of what was on auction was not at all to my taste.  So my attempts at bidding on the few items I might have been interested were quickly bested, and I settled in to just watching what happened around me.

At the end of the night, my companions snagged some pieces, and I nearly walked out empty-handed, *Until* the door prizes began.  I won an APTN mug.  Why can't I have that kind of luck when something big is on the line like trips, cash prizes, or electronics?

Cursed...

...Wish you were here.

November 23/12

Today I worked from home again, and between the dentist appointment that left my mouth feeling like it had been the victim of a multiple stabbing, the cats behaving rather badly (Purrball's aggression continues, Max tries to lick himself), and my manager's endless revisions to a work product she's already revised, this has been a most aggravating day that I'd just as soon forget.

At one point in the afternoon, I went on a mini-strike.  I threw a movie on and just let myself chill out before I attempted to address the work situation.  It seems that my experience and expertise count for little when someone new to the program tries way too hard to make it their own.  I get that a new team means that people will want to make some changes, but when I have to spend a lot more of my time explaining why change X, Y and Z are not advisable, I feel like I'm losing the battle.

Meh.

Patience...

...Wish you were here.


Thursday, November 22, 2012

November 22/12

Last night, as I was settling Max back in with us, I got some sad news, and it still weighs on me today.

My ex's sister sent me a message to let me know that their Auntie Margaret had died.  All I know is that she had heart problems, and the cause of death was a massive heart attack.  My heart jumped into my throat, remembering that awful day when the same cause of death took Rod and Marie's father, Harry. 

When it's sudden like that, you feel such shock.  It's not like cancer or some slow, lingering health issue, and you're given no time to consider the possibility or prepare yourself a great deal.  Those left behind have to struggle through dealing with the instant change to their lives forever.

Hug a loved one today.

Rest in peace, Margaret...

...Wish you were here.

November 21/12

Max Update:

We brought him home :)

He's recuperating beautifully, and the final vet bill was shaved down by $1000 because he responded so well to everything.

He has to wear an Elizabethan collar, which if you follow me on Twitter or are friends with me on Facebook, you've seen.  Poor little guy, but I want to give him a few days so he learns to leave the scar site alone.  It hasn't been all sunshine and roses though, as Purrball's been very aggressive toward him since he arrived back home.  I gather that the unfamiliar smells of the vet hospital upsets her, and she's been alone for two days, so we're going to have to work our way through that.

But since he's been home, we've had a chance to just sit on the couch, and he's gingerly climbed up and settled on my lap.  Normally, I get no love from him, as he absolutely *LAVISHES* it solely on Etienne, but true to form, when my baby boy is sick/hurting, it's his mummy he wants.

My strong, gutsy little baby boy on my lap...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

November 20/12

My day yesterday has sort of melded with today into one loooooooonnng day.

We went to bed, but the vet called at 2:30 this morning to let us know that Max did indeed have bladder stones, 8 or 9 of them.  If it had to be something, this was the best case scenario, and the stones could be surgically removed and with a properly Ph balanced diet, Max could avoid a recurrence, and make a good recovery.  The vet said all of his levels and kidney functions looked alright, and he made it through the sedation very well, he was up, he was eating, and he was doing much better.

Our next challenge was to arrange the surgery to remove the stones.  Suddenly, the estimate for Max's care doubled.  At 3 am, this is nothing short of a kick to the gut.  Suddenly the scary $2000 turned into a daunting $4000.  For a cat?  Yes.  The rub of it is that these places know we love our pets like children, and they can commit highway robbery because of it. 

Max is too old to be covered by any reputable pet insurer, so I basically had to agree to give away all my money until next spring, but it had to be done.  Max had his surgery this afternoon, and he came through pretty well.

Assuming there are no complications, my baby boy should be home tomorrow night.  After all, the little guy has survived so much and come out alright, so...keep hoping.

My baby boy...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, November 19, 2012

November 19/12

This has been an awful evening.

When we got home, there was a massive pile of solid kitty puke.  Within a minute, we recognized something was wrong with Max.  He was staying away from us, he was hunched over like he was trying to poo, and his belly was so rigid.

I found the closest 24 hour vet hospital, called a cab, and took him in, hoping it was just constipation.

It's not.  My poor baby boy has an obstruction, and he can't pee.  Whatever this is, it wasn't causing a problem even yesterday, as he was eating normally and behaving as normally as he does on a lazy Sunday.  We're hoping it's a build-up of crystals in his bladder, but while they are putting in a catheter to drain the bladder, they will do x-rays and urinalysis to see if there's a different, more serious cause.

While meeting with the vet, she was cautious, as she noted that he is 15 and a half years old; older cats are at risk when put under anesthesia, especially if they are not stable.  I was in shock and crying a lot, but I couldn't make that call yet.  If Max passes away during the procedure, so be it; but to make the call when this might be something like crystals, which can be flushed and removed, and fully recovered from...well I had to wait to see.  If it's a tumor (another awful possibility), the decision is made.  Max will be put to sleep. 

The worst part is leaving the hospital, so uncertain and scared of losing my baby boy.  He's a strong, happy little boy.

Max...



...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

November 18/12

Oh no!

I woke up this morning with a scratchy throat and a stuffy nose.  I really thought I was getting away with not getting sick after traveling, but I guess not :(

It's like some curse.  I can't recall a real trip (with planes and everything) when I haven't come home sick or else gotten sick immediately after getting home.  I wasn't sick on Thursday or Friday, but yesterday my sinuses were going berserk, and by now, I'm heading into full-on cold.  Booo!

Better health...

...Wish you were here.

November 17/12

Happy Birfday to my Big Brother!

Daryl is 11 years older than me, so actually, there were long periods of my early life when he wasn't around.  His life has not been an easy one and he's seen some dangerously low lows, but he's still doing his best, and despite his troubles, he is still a good-natured guy.  So today, as he turns another year older, I hope he's having a good day.

Miss you Brother...

...Wish you were here.

November 16/12

Sometimes, the universe is trying to tell you something, and you should listen.

It's Friday afternoon: my microsoft outlook is having server issues, I crashed out of the Workload report, the Workload numbers are totally wrong, and FAS isn't operational.  Nothing worked, and as a result, I couldn't do a lot of my work.  I don't know about you, but it's pretty clear that I wasn't meant to be at work this afternoon. 

Unfortunately, the woes of failing technology are no excuse to leave.

The weekend...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

November 15/12

Oh fuck me.

Our flight landed just before midnight last night, and when we got home at 12:30 AM, the idea was to feed the cats and go to bed.  It didn't work out that way.  Etienne's mislaid something important, so we were up until 1:30 AM searching for it.  We didn't find it. 

I woke up at 7 AM to go to work, but I'm exhausted, both because of the traveling and because of the shortage of sleep.  I wouldn't have gone to work but I was supposed to have a meeting with my director.  Yeah, that was pushed back to next week. 

I haven't been able to do much of any value today.  Funny how sleep deprivation has that effect: sleep deprivation ≠ accuracy and productivity.

Sleep...

...Wish you were here.

November 14/12

If only I could live on the beach.

Today was our last day in Vancouver, and this time, I was determined to visit my favourite spot in the Metro Vancouver area: Locarno Beach. 

I'm a fairly stressed-out individual by nature, and when I find myself in some sort of troubling situation, the best way to calm me down is to get me to a significant body of water for some talking and/or contemplation.  Unfortunately for me (for so many reasons), I live in Ottawa, with three rather sad water bodies (Ottawa River, Rideau River, Rideau Canal) which pale mightily in the face of the expansive and open waters of the Pacific Ocean, so my "water therapy" isn't working the way it used to. 

I truly miss this.

Calming waters...

...Wish you were here.


November 13/12

The great thing about visiting home is the friendly faces.

Just out of nowhere, my niece, Miss M. decided to come to Vancouver for the night.  I haven't seen my baby girl since....summer 2010?  And in that time, she's grown up, finished high school, gotten a job, and is planning for her education; but she's still my baby girl.  She still the fun, silly character she was when she lived with me, and I've missed her.  Her active Twitter activity has helped us keep in touch, but it's not as good as the real thing.  The real thing lets us get into the goofiest fake shouting matching in front of my parents, like siblings.

Another friendly face was a former work colleague of Etienne's, who moved out to Vancouver earlier this year.  His wife got a job out there, so they went, despite the uncertain career situation he was in.  Like us, he is a fairly young policy analyst who worked for the Federal government at a time when job futures with the federal government are somewhat uncertain for so many.  He's not had the best of luck with his job search out there, as policy jobs in Vancouver aren't prevalent.  The provincial government (largely centred in Victoria) has a hiring freeze on, and the feds aren't hiring much.  City jobs are few and far between, and largely focus on planning.  So it's a tough go, which I knew, as I've been trawling the internet for months, trying to get a policy job out there.  Despite this, he's doing well, and that's encouraging.

Of course, it's always nice to see my parents and the family dog, Mojo.  I know they are lonely out there, as none of Dad's friends and most of his family don't come out to Vancouver to see him, but they seem to do just fine, and since they got Mojo, it's been easier to get through the daily grind of retirement/semi-retirement.

Friendly faces...

...Wish you were here.

November 12/12

Seeing Leonard Cohen live in concert has fulfilled a life goal.  The Master of Words puts on a sublime show.  At 78, he hopped, he skipped, he took a knee so many times, and he sang with heart and soul.  And he did it for three and a half hours.  I've been to concerts that have lasted that long, but where an opening act had at least an hour of that time.

Leonard opened with 'Dance Me to the End of Love' which touched Etienne greatly, and by the end of his third encore, he ended with 'Closing Time.'  In between, he crooned his way through many of his best known and best loved songs, and the blend was new and old.  In between songs, he would freely quote some of his poems, including the brilliant and wicked 'A Thousand Kisses Deep.'

And where was I during all of this?  Thoroughly delighted.  At some points, during songs that have particular meaning or resonance for me, I was sitting there, entranced.  I've enjoyed so many concerts in the past, but none have ever touched me the way only Leonard Cohen can.  I hope every music lover has the chance to be so touched by a concert experience.

Overwhelming joy...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 16, 2012

November 11/12

The Poppy.

Who knew that one little flower would cause such a fuss?

The red poppy has been a symbol of the dead on battlefields since the Napoleonic wars, as those hardy little flowers were one of the few flora that would grow in the devastated fields of battle in and around Flanders.  Then, in 1915, a Canadian doctor/soldier, John McCrea, wrote what would become the most iconic poem of its time, In Flanders Fields, which immortalized the red poppy as a symbol of the soldiers of war.  In 1918, the red poppy became the symbol it is today, a tribute to soldiers who had fallen in battle, and generations of children, including myself, grew up learning that poem by heart, and pinning the red felt poppies to our winter coats.

This year, I wore a white poppy.  It's not that I dare diminish the deaths of soldiers in combat; it's that I choose to stand for the kind of peace in the world that would end the overwhelmingly needless deaths of people in wars.  We honour and thank soldiers and veterans for their military service, for putting their lives at risk for the idea of our nations.  But the days are long past when the war dead were by and large soldiers; now, the war dead are infants and children, mothers, elders, black, white, brown, red, soldiers, storeowners...now the war dead and casualties around the world are largely civilians.

The white poppy honours everyone with a simple wish:

Peace...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

November 10/12

It's that moment - you've waited so long and then it finally happens.

I came home.

It's been more than a year since I've been able to come back to Vancouver, and to say I miss it is something of an understatement.

When I moved to Vancouver in 2006, I was delayed by a day due to a wild last night in Edmonton (read: hangover), so I actually didn't roll into Burnaby until the evening of May 1st.  On May 2nd, I work up and went to my new kitchen window.  My ex was still asleep, so it was me and the cats.  We lived on the 23rd floor, and our windows and balcony had views that spanned from the mountains of the North Shore all the way east to the Rockies and Mt. Baker, on south to the flat land of Richmond.  The sun had just come up over the Rockies to the east, and it was going to be a clear, beautiful, spring day.  As I stood there, I took in a deep breath and everything became so clear: "I live here."  This was the first time I had truly felt at home in years.

Tonight, as Etienne and I flew into Vancouver, there it was.  I'm home.

Home...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 9, 2012

November 9/12

Today, nothing happened, and I'm completely okay with that.

After the chaos of the last week at work, including one major meltdown by yours truly, it was a welcome respite to have nothing significant to worry about today.  I did know I wouldn't get a file signed off before deadline at the call of business today, but I didn't care, as we're so backed up in our group (Doing more with less!), it wasn't going to be my job to push back.  And since I wasn't going to be at work on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday, I could just breathe easy, knowing that I had no major responsibilities unrelated to my program waiting for me when I do head back to work next Thursday.

TGIF...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

November 8/12

Okay, I had a Hard.Fucking.Core day at work today, trying to get two files off my desk and helping out with a third massive mission, so I'm a little brain-fried as a result.

So it's probably a combination of the wine, the raclette, and the fatigue of the week, but somehow our discussion over supper turned to dinosaurs, and I was telling Etienne that it's too bad he missed the current ROM exhibit about Dinosaurs; some of the specimens on display are new to me, and one of the more striking things I noticed was a group of dinosaurs with extremely tiny arms.  As in, their arms were shorter than the length of my hand (approximately 8 inches, BTW).

Again, I will remind you that we were under the influence of wine, rich food, and fatigue...

We were very politically incorrect, making fun of the stumpy-armed dinosaurs.  I made a comment about a pathetic slap fight, Etienne commented about Natural Selection (No arms, no chance), and from there, we actually tied an Office Space reference to this whacked-out scenario, playing Bob's "Yeah, I'm going to have to go ahead and have you go extinct" line.

Earlier today, while trying to organize drinks out with a couple of friends, we ran into a problem that myself and one friend were available for the proposed date, but another had a retirement party to attend; so, I did what came naturally.  Via email, I provided three options:

A) Reschedule
B) Keep the date, but get ditched by obligated friend to go party with old people
C) Crash the party!

Throughout the afternoon, we opted for C!  I closed out with a "Yay!  I'm gunna crash a party, I'm gunna crash a party, I'm gunna crash a party, I'm gunna crash a party" to which the ladies replied that they could actually hear me singing it as they read it.

And first thing this morning, as we were on our way to Campus station to catch our bus, Etienne invented a Deep Purple cover band, complete with a revised version of Smoke on the Water.

Yes, today was clearly a silly day meant for giggles.

Good times...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

November 7/12

I don't know what is happening these days, but I'm not sleeping well.  I'm having dreams or nightmares, I'm waking up in the middle of the night, or else too early in the morning but it's too late to go back to sleep before the alarm goes off.

It's affecting everything: my physical health and immune system is weak, my mental and emotional state is fraught and unpredictable, and my stress levels are off the chart.  I'm just no fun to be around!

Boooooo!  I suck!

Dear, Sweet, Lovely sleep...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

November 6/12

It's 11:15 pm, and the moment we've all been waiting for has finally come, after two years of incessent, annoying campaigning and politicking...

Ohio has just been called for Obama, thus propelling him past the 270 votes needed to win the election.

The thing is, I knew this was coming.  And anyone who paid attention to poll numbers in just the nine swing states probably knew too.  While everyone swooned and swayed every day since the first debate about the national polls, I watched two sources: The Rachel Maddow Show on MSNBC, and the daily poll tracking of the swing states on Real Clear Politics.  And by and large, those sources were consistently showing that Obama was ahead much of the time in those nine states.  It's about getting to know your sources, and if your sources were Fox News and Rasmussen Polling, you were being duped by wishful thinking and spun numbers.

Finding sources you can (somewhat) trust...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, November 5, 2012

November 5/12

I got home after 5:30 today, which is about usual, but tonight it hit me that on a night very much like this one--chilly and dark--11 years ago today, having just said goodbye forever to my beloved Gramma.

Gramma had suffered a stroke on October 6th.  She lived in Fort Smith, a tiny town on the NWT/Alberta border, and her condition meant she had to be medivaced to Edmonton, where I lived at the time.  From the moment she arrived, I spent nearly every free hour I could at the hospital, watching a steady procession of my relatives come and go, all arriving from points far away to see her.

The strokes (TIA strokes), plus her diabetes, her advanced age, and a slow recovery from a mastectomy earlier in the summer all took their toll, and her body began to shut down.  Knowing she was dying, all she wanted was to go home to Fort Smith.  On that last day, November 5th, she was drifting in and out of consciousness more, and it was harder to get her to respond.  Most of the family, understanding that she was dying soon, had left, heading to Fort Smith for the inevitable funeral.  Left behind were me, my parents, and an aunt who lived outside of the city.

Gramma was scheduled to be flown back to Fort Smith that day, but the medical professionals were playing games; the mediplane staff didn't want to take her in her condition because she might die on the journey, and the hospital was reluctant to sign off on her release, given her condition.

My dad and I argued as calmly as we could--we knew she was dying, and she knew it too.  She just wanted to go home.  If she died on the journey, or had an event, so be it, as she had signed a "Do Not Resuscitate" order, which we all respected.  We'd sign whatever they wanted us to, releasing them from liability, it didn't matter.  All that mattered was getting her home.  Finally, everyone agreed.  She was going home.

We all had to say our goodbyes.

Even if we had left right away, Fort Smith was nearly a day's drive from Edmonton, and we wouldn't make it in time.  So there, in a dark, dreary room shared with another patient at the University of Alberta Hospital, around 5 pm, I tried my very best not to cry as I leaned over to hug her and kiss her for the last time.  Then they wrapped her up, buckled her in, and wheeled her out of the room.  To me, she was gone.  And I just let loose.  Pent up tears--a month's worth of bring brave and responsible for her--came flooding out.

In the very early morning hours of November 6th, we got the call; she died peacefully in the hospital in Fort Smith.  Her home.

I weep tonight just as I did 11 years ago.

Gramma...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

November 4/12

I just got off the phone with my parents, and it seems that my uncle's health has taken a drastic turn for the worse. 

He was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease well over a year ago, but in the last year it's become evident that he also suffers from dementia as well.  It a terrible time because his wife was diagnosed with advanced stage cancer this spring as well.  He's an uncle by marriage, through my mother's only sibling, her sister Bev.  My aunt Bev died of lung cancer in the early 1990's, but my uncle has been a rock of support for my mother despite my aunt no longer being with us.  My uncle and aunt had no kids, and his wife didn't have children from her marriage either, so my mother is one of the few people left who can provide some support to my uncle and his wife.

Uncle Stan has always been wonderful to me and my siblings.  When I was a little girl, he would let me play with these little commemorative phones that he received as gifts when he retired from BCTel.  At the time, my aunt and uncle had an oceanfront house tucked away in a little cove on Salt Spring Island, and when the tide was out, he'd take me down to the shore and we'd hunt for sea shells and oysters (well, not so much me...I hated oysters).  He stood out from all of my other uncles as the only one I had on my mother's side, and the only one who didn't live near us, so it was always a treat seeing him.

I haven't seen uncle Stan since 1996, but mum has always stayed in touch and kept me updated on his life, so it was very sad to hear about the Parkinson's diagnosis, and even worse when we had the first conversation about the dementia.  He was moved to a care facility shortly after his wife's cancer diagnosis, as she was going to have to go to Victoria for radiation and chemotherapy treatments, leaving him alone on Salt Spring.  Mum went over to help and she was struck by how different he was from the lively, healthy, sweetheart of a man she'd known most of her life.  He's still a sweetheart, but he'd lost a lot of weight, and whether he had his wits about him depended so much on how quickly something would trigger the present for him.  Since entering the care home, he's gone down hill far too fast.  The Parkinson's has taken a terrible toll on him physically, while the dementia has all but wiped out his memory.

Etienne and I are scheduled to fly out to Vancouver this month for a visit home and a concert; based on similar experiences I've had with others whose health declines so precipitously, I have to be prepared for the possibility of extending my trip to include a funeral.

Family...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

November 3/12

Both of my parents were married to other people before they came together.  In both of these relationships, there were kids.  My oldest brother and my sister were the product of the marriage of my mum to Ron, and my second brother was the son of my dad and Roseanne.  This all happened years before I was born, so there's a rather large age gap between me and the other three kids. 

It's a long, complex story that I won't get into here, but the fact that both of my parents were married to other people before each other created a strange dynamic in our house as far as *I* was concerned.  I grew up for the first years of my life referring to Ron as uncle Ron, which I assume was done for the sake of simplicity, knowing a small child would not be able to fully comprehend the relationship he had to my family. 

Anyway, Ron would call the house to talk to his kids, and I'd usually get a chance to talk to him.  I was maybe 4 or 5 years old when I started to consciously discern the meaning of uncle, and I remember asking whose brother Ron was.  I assumed he was dad's brother (because they were both men...I know, the strange notions of babies), but I was told he was not my uncle, that he was the dad of my brother and sister.  A blended family; imagine that concept ricocheting around the head of a 5 year old who had never heard of The Brady Bunch.  They have a different dad?  And my other brother has a different mum?   Whoa.

As I got older, I stopped calling Ron "uncle" but I'll still always think of him as uncle Ron.  Sadly, Ron passed away in May 2011.  Today would have been his birthday.  I know my sister misses her dad dearly; I know that because even I miss him, and he and I were virtual strangers to each other the older I got.  On a day like this, I wish I could give my brother and sister a great big squeeze, just to let them know that I love them a lot, and I do miss his presence in the unusual family I've been a part of all these years.

The concept of family...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 2, 2012

November 2/12

Tonight Etienne and I just needed to talk.  It was one of those nights when you just want to have a few drinks and just discuss, anything and everything that is stimulating.

At one point, we talked about my writing.  Etienne follows this blog (hi babe!), so he's gotten to know my writing style.  I'm not sure if he's ever read any of my academic efforts, and I do know that in a moment of impaired judgement (literally...we had both been drinking), I did show him a couple of my poems.  But whatever he's read, he's familiar with the idea that my voice really comes out in my writing.

So his obvious question is why I've never gone so far as to actually write.  We have a friend who writes on the side, has self-published several of his works; so why wasn't I, since I do love to write?

It's because of this:

I'm very good at communicating in writing.  At work I'm often complimented on my writing skills.  In my academic life, I'm a strong, persuasive writer, and I find ways to invest myself in my topic, which comes out.  My poetry is not the stuff of Wordsworth, but I've figured out by now that it can tend to be quite lyrical, which would be great if I had any talent for writing music (but I don't).  But for all of this, I have no story to tell; or rather, I haven't found my story to tell. 

They say to write what you know, but to this point all I really know is how to be a philosophical fuck-up with a knack for getting into unusual situations.  Hardly the stuff of compelling reading.  And without any guides to tether me, I can't reach out into the infinite possibilities and the story I can write.

So for all of that, I just don't feel that I have any business trying to write or get published.  Let the others who are much better storytellers publish their gifts, and I won't clutter the world with my sheepish nonsense.  Not such a bad deal!

Know thyself...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

November 1/12

Tonight, I got such a happy!  Why?  Because I got confirmation that there are other people out there who also love Halloween as much as I do!

Etienne was browsing through Halloween memes on the internet and while there were some really awesome ones out there, the one that made me squeal with delight was a picture of a courtroom.  And who was presiding over the courtroom?  A person dressed as Cookie Monster!  If that had an ounce of truth to it, it gladdened my heart, which was broken after I made the mistake of googling to find out what a "Honey Boo Boo" was.  So much exploitation in that entire...situation?  What is that?

Anyway.

Cookie Monster...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

October 31/12

Spook-a-rama lives!

My nephew, B2, is now old enough to be able to start attending this teen event in Yellowknife.  His younger brother, A., is still not old enough, so he's still doing the trick-or-treating thing. 

I can't believe this event still takes place, but this year is the 42nd year of this party!  It's an alcohol-free dance party for the teens of Yellowknife, with big prize giveaways and food out at the military hangar at the airport.  There are buses shipping the kids to and from town all night, and during my time, videos became part of the festivities.  It happens on Halloween, and it usually means the junior high and high schools are full of tired kids on November 1st.  My sister, K., went to these dances when we moved to Yellowknife in the mid-80s.  I went during the early and mid-90s.  Now her kids are starting to go in the early 2000s.

Continuity...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

October 30/12

Holy judgment batman!

I'm being a little harsh on myself at the moment because in the span of five minutes, I read that an acquaintance is off to volunteer in South America for three months in the near future, followed by hearing that tonight, someone questioned Etienne about whether he was reconsidering our relationship because I don't have any desire to have a baby.

It's one of those moments when you feel like you are a failure on two fronts...simultaneously.  I've always wanted to go off and do the volunteering thing in a developing country, but it didn't fit in the life I've led.  And I've never really felt that desire or urge to have a baby.  One is a failure of my own making because I didn't find a way to make it happen, the other a failure pushed on me by society.

#FML...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, October 29, 2012

October 29/12

Today was almost going to be a non-event, post-wise, until I was randomly asked a question on facebook by someone who doesn't normally reach out to me about finding something to be passionate about.  This person is struggling to find something, and asked a lot of people that question, specifically about any course we had taken that got us there.

It turns out that my passion is learning about societies, both in the sociological sense and the anthropological sense.  During my first year of my first attempt at an undergrad, I took an Anthro 101 course that just turned my world upside down and sparked me up.  I was hooked.  After a lot of twists and turns, I've parlayed that passion into a career of solving problems and issues that societies must deal with.

So, if you're reading this, Miss T., the easy answer is "Anthropology" but the right answer is that I had to take a lot of twists and turns, and I had to fall on my ass several times, get up, and keep going before I could trust myself to find my passion and turn it into my study and career.

School of Hard Knocks...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

October 28/12

Jeff Kober, you are seriously awesome.

I'm watching season one of New Girl on dvd right now, and I'm up to the episode about the landlord.  If you haven't seen that episode, I don't want to spoil it for you, I just want to say that the situation that develops is something I never in my life thought was possible coming for Jeff Kober.  He gets typecast a lot, playing hardasses, psychopaths and seriously creepy guys (it's that voice...you would be terrified to hear that voice coming up behind you in a dark alley), but in this role, he most definitely plays against type in a way that is so hilariously cringe-worthy, I'm surprised he didn't get a special guest nod for the Emmy awards.

And kudos to the episode's director for probably the most twisted use of the song Send Me On My Way by Rusted Root.  I used to heavily associate that song with the movie Ice Age and its characters, but now...wow...I'll never be able to hear it without laughing and cringing!

New Girl...

...Wish you were here.

October 27/12

When the Etienne is away, the Fancy will play...a lot of movies!

Tonight, Etienne was scheduled for a Boys Night In at Brent's, so I took advantage of the time apart to view all the big movies that Etienne won't see.

I trekked to the cinema to see Argo first.  That Ben Affleck kid...he's got some talent for storytelling.  Not so much for acting, but I think he's got something with the directing gig.  Why?  Because even though we all know how the story ends (being based on actual events), every person in that theatre was tense.  You can't help but become invested in how the story plays out.  That's a sign that you are able to craft a well-developed movie.

Next up, I went home and fired up the Rogers on Demand.  I'd never get Etienne to see Magic Mike, so that was next up on the list.  It's a crap story, and I did not care for Alex Pettyfer in the least, but like any red-blooded woman, I'd be stupid if I didn't cop to finding the eye candy delicious.

Etienne was still out, so I got in a triple feature; rounding out the night was The Avengers.  That's some good, clean, old-fashioned, loud-and-proud summer blockbuster!  It's not a time for thinking, it's a time for sitting back and just enjoying frivolous entertainment.  Probably the cutest moment of the whole film was the end-of-credit scene.  Man, that Thor can put it away!

Fun at the films...

...Wish you were here.

October 26/12

What Southerners don't know about living in the North...

...is a lot.

I can't get into details, but today I heard a story about seeing comments on something at work that asked if there were alternatives to flying for getting around Nunavut.

Yes, really.

If you're a Northerner, right about now, you are rolling your eyes at the ignorance of Southerners.  If you're a Southerner, I'm sorry, but that's a seriously stupid question.  The North, especially the high arctic, is not like the south.  We don't have many roads between communities, and hell, sometimes we have to rely on winter roads (over lakes or rivers) to get in and out by ground transportation.  When I heard about the comment, I wanted to email the individual, instruct that person to do to Google Maps, try to get driving directions for, say, Iqaluit to Arctic Bay.  Just from the south end of Baffin Island to the north end of Baffin Island (never mind going between the islands or to the mainland).  If you do it, this is what you get:


Okay? 

I just want to put up banners at the airports that service northern destinations: "Leave South at the Door!"  You can't expect that the way things are down south will be the way they are up north. 

Differing realities...

...Wish you were here.

October 25/12

Colossal.

Interview.

Face.

Plant.

I'm not an idiot, I just panicked.

Fuck-up...

...Wish you were here.

October 24/12

So tomorrow I have to go to Toronto for an interview.  I'm flying down for it, and in order to avoid weather issues or mechanical delays, I booked an early flight.  I've arranged to meet with Gail for dinner, but she works until 5:30, so I have several hours before and after the interview to kill, and I don't know what to do with that time.

It's going to be an adventure getting from Pearson to downtown.  I'm trying to save money, so I've got to take public transit, which involves a bus which will take me to a subway and then I have to change lines to a different subway, all just to get to any of the destinations I might have in mind.

Should I go to the AGO to see the Diego and Frida exhibition?  I dunno.  I'm not a big fan of their work, but it's not often I'll be in a position to see a lot of their work at once.  Should I go to the ROM?  This month there is a big dinosaurs exhibit, an exhibit about one of the security camps of the Khmer Rouge, and an now there's an exhibit featuring my father's cousin, Jane Ash Poitras.  Or there's shopping and hanging out in the entertainment district.  Or a movie?  A tour around Queen's Park?

I dunno!

So many choices...

...Wish you were here.

October 23/12

Cats are such delightful creatures!

There's a saying that goes a little something like this: Dogs have masters, cats have staff.  Cats treat you with such disdain and then they are all over you, wanting, nay *demanding* your love and affection.  In our house, there's a clear delineation in roles: the cats love and adore Etienne, and would follow him to the ends of the earth just to be near him; and I clean their litter box, feed them, clean up their cat messes, and get ignored and shunned.

But I draw the line at stealing from me!

We were watching TV and eating in front of the TV.  Engaged in conversation, I didn't notice until too late that Max was sticking his head into my water glass to take a drink.  I tried to grab it before he got his little tongue in there, but as a show of defiance, the little booger snorted in the water.

Round 1 to Max.

I got up and emptied the water, rinsed the glass so I wouldn't be sharing his little cat germs so up close and personal, refreshed my water, and returned to the couch.  A mere 35 minutes later, the little booger was back and making a beeline for my glass.  This time I swooped in and saved my glass before he could pull rank.

Round 2 to Fancy.

Cats...

...Wish you were here.

October 22/12

Tonight was the last presidential debate, and since it was "supposed to be" about foreign policy, I had a "stake" in this debate, being part of the 6.7 Billion people in the world NOT living in the United States.  It's important for me to hear what mistakes the candidates are planning to make in US Foreign Policy which will impact the 95.5% of us who reside outside of US borders.

The thing is, they both started out saying the exact same thing, and both were disturbingly eager to bring the debate back to the domestic economy issues that they couldn't get into during the first two debates.  This wasn't a debate when they were both saying the same thing, or avoiding answering the question.

If you've never seen 'Moon Over Parador' there is a scene somewhere in the middle where two lackadaisical drummers in the presidential military band are staring at a wall, discussing how they are going to vote in the upcoming presidential election:


Until a certain point in the debate, that was what I felt like.

Finally, Obama started to dominate and Romney fell apart.  If it hadn't been for that shift, this really would have been a "Vote White" and "Vote Blue" situation.

Freedom of choice...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

October 21/12

Today we needed some groceries.  Bored and needing to get out of the house on one of these few beautiful fall days left before the awful winter sets in, we sort of steered ourselves toward the market and wasted some time there.  I had planned to steer us to the Rideau Loblaw, but as we started to make our way there, Etienne remembered that he wanted to visit Nicastro's.  Nicastro's is an Italian market in a very tiny place, packed largely with imported foods from Italy, a smart deli, and wonderful fresh breads.

At Nicastro's, I get more of a feeling of what it used to be like to shop in Europe than I did when I actually shopped in Europe.  The large grocery store experience of North America is alive and well in large European cities (though with worse parking problems), and we ate out a lot, so I didn't get to take part in that European experience of shopping for supper after work in those small markets.  When we went to a store in Switzerland, it was a large, well-lit, well-stocked multi-story Co-op store, reminiscent of Safeway or Loblaw here in Canada.  There was no mom-and-pop shop experience, with reusable bags brimming over with fresh vegetables and deli-cut meat for supper that night.

In our own neighbourhood, we do have a small mom-and-pop market, Boushey's which we will sometimes go out of our way to get to after work, but it really does require going out of our way.  If the Nicastro's or Boushey's were more accessible, I'd love to do daily or semi-daily shops there, but that isn't the case, so once a week, we venture to our large big-box grocers to stock up.

Fresh shopping...

...Wish you were here.


October 20/12

Today was one of those days where nothing extraordinary happened.  After our night out, we spent much of the day in.  It was a good opportunity (as you can see by the time stamps) for me to catch up on my posting.  But no matter how many I knock out, I'm so far behind!  The only saving grace is that I'm at least capturing a moment in a few words on paper, so I'm not losing it to the memory void.

I'm sorry for the delays!

Working on it...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

October 19/12

After a full day of "retreating" with my new team at work, I needed a drink.  You know those days when you are tense because you expect a day of, well, tension?  Yeah, I had that.  A whole day of feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome.  So of course, when I got out, I felt like I needed to...what's the word?  Oh, yeah.  LIVE.

We got home early, but neither of us was in the mood to just sit at home.  For once, like the good old days, it was Friday, and we needed to get out!  So Etienne declared it a pubwalk night: we'd hit the pubs up and down Elgin and have a drink!

We started at the Fox and Feather, enjoying our drinks and some policy talk (do we policy wonks know how to unwind after a day of policying or what!), but it wasn't long before the alcohol started screwing with my blood sugar levels, and I knew I needed to eat soon.  We have only a few known places we can go that works for both Etienne's vegetarian diet and his no-gluten diet, so it worked out well that the next pub on the list was the Lieutenant's Pump, which serves gluten-free beer and has a somewhat more Celiac-friendly menu than most places on Elgin.  More drinks, some food, and more conversation, though after our second drink in, it was less wonkish and more general...this really was feeling like the old days of my first summer in Ottawa, before Etienne and I were together, when we'd find a pub on a Friday, and set about with the very serious task of unwinding.

On to bar three: the Sir John A.  We were surprised this time though, as they've recently started carrying a gluten-free beer (hurray!  More options!), which turned out to be okay.

The only downside to all of this is that we started early, so we were home by 10, and after the tension of the day, I'm beat.  So I take my leave of you, with this moment:

The Old Days...

...Wish you were here.