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

Saturday, November 30, 2013

November 30/13

After yesterday's bleak preponderance of the human condition, it's only fair (if not a bit disassociative) to follow up with something to smile about.

This morning, I did a bad.  I'm broke, but I went ahead and ordered two records and a book online for my birfday (no, it's not my birfday today).  I hesitated, but it's the Black Friday weekend sale at this particular site, and these are records that I cannot get locally, or even in Canada (as my online hunt bore out), and I wouldn't want to miss these records.

So I went ahead, and looked away as I clicked okay, but then I looked back.  There, on the screen was the Josh Ritter Merchandise website's message letting me know it was processing the payment.  'So what?' you'd think, right?

Here's what...instead of the typical "Please wait while we process the payment" message you'd expect, I got this:

"OMG so excited!"

I was instantly charmed!  But wait, there's more!

The payment went through, and instead of the normal notification, I got this:

"OMG it worked!  Yay!"

This sealed the deal.  Whatever remorse I had for buying something I couldn't afford (on this pay period, anyway) was gone.  It's too charming not to smile about!

I decided the only thing I could do was share it with the world, so...


To which I got this...

Well played, sirs, well played!

You should try it (because Josh Ritter is awesome anyway)...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 29, 2013

November 29/13

I just don't see how it's possible that one could be all family and holiday spirit one minute, then line up for 12 hours and beat to a pulp someone who wants the same cheap DVD player as you.

That's right, folks, it's Black Friday in the US, the day after everyone was being all thankful and shit, and following it up with displays of just...gross human indecency.  I know a majority of people aren't like that, but the media has certainly caught on enough to really poison the well, so to speak.  And we aren't immune to it here in Canada, as our retailers have started to import the event.  I saw a picture on Twitter today of Metropolis at Metrotown this morning?  I recognize those hallways...one leading to Chapters and Club Monaco, the other to the McDonald's?  Yeah, at 9 am, I'd estimate there were about 500 people there.

And every year, the media outdoes itself with even more stories of violence.  So depressing.

And this coming from a shopper.  Really, there is nothing I would want to buy that I would ever consider punching someone over, or worse.  I just really want to know *why* someone would? 

The tangles of human complexity...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

November 28/13

Happy Turkey Day to our American friends.  Otherwise, happy Thursday to everyone else.

It's been a tough night here.  We finally sat down to catch up on some TV shows we missed last week, and it includes the sad Family Guy episode where Brian dies.

There are just some things that are too soon or too close to home, and when I see it mimicked on TV shows, it makes me sob.  The episode where Marshall finds out his father has died is an example.  The earlier seasons are in syndication on some channels, so for time to time that episode comes on.  It's too close to home for me, remembering Rod getting that call.  I never not sob.

Well, now I can add the episode of Brian's death to my list.  I knew Brian died (and I don't like it one bit...he was a favourite character, and now it just seems that Stewie will be without a foil), but it turns out the scene with the vet just guts me.  Reminds me to Max's last moments, and I broke right down and sobbed while Etienne held me.

Art imitates life...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

November 27/13

Social media can be such a pain in the ass, and due my neurotic relationship with it, it's not always my friend.  I frequently self-censor because there might be jerks from you-know-where monitoring what I put out there, and it irritates me to no end to think of the reasons why I do it (the people from you-know-where know exactly why).  Yet, I have to also praise social media because there have been times of stress, irritation, anger, boredom, ennui and outright apathy where a well-timed post on the two social media sites I primarily haunt will save the day by lifting my mood, be it ever so slightly or enough to perk me right up.

Not that I was in any particularly bad mood today, but some precious gems of laughter and joy landed in my Twitter feed today, and I can't not share them.

THis first one, well, you'd have to know me well enough, or it won't make sense why I loved it so much:

Do you see it yet?  Hint: I am over the moon about Winnie the Pooh and I think I've managed to establish how much I enjoy Star Wars.

This next one, well, this one had to be shared because it touched my heart and reminded me its good to be a people sometimes.

Members of my beloved Detroit Red Wings visited the Detroit Children's Medical Centre today, and here are two of the sick kids, including one overwhelmed young lady, sharing a moment with Henrik Zetterberg and Coach Mike Babcock.  The girl's tears as Henrik has his arm around her are both poignant and heartwarming, and hopefully it reminds us all that doing a nice thing for someone can be its own reward.

Click on...

...Wish you were here

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

November 26/13

This...


Possibly the cutest thing I've seen all day, I couldn't not share this happy with everyone.  Sometimes the simplest things are the best.

Lighthearted joy...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, November 25, 2013

November 25/13

Update: R. replied  :)

I had sent the email in a way that just implied I hoped all was well; I know she's a busy person, and I can't take it personally if there are other priorities in the lives of people I care about.  However, I took it as a good sign when the first line of her email was something to the effect of "OMG IT'S FANCY POITRAS!"

We've sent a couple more emails back and forth, trading quick updates, and there's talk of coffee when she is in town next time (she has family in the area).  I had to laugh...of course it would be a coffee date.  There isn't a lot for teenagers to do in Yk unless they are in sports, clubs or have jobs.  Back in the day, those who weren't big joiners would head straight for the local coffee shop or restaurant du jour and spend hours talking and joking over endless cigarettes and bottomless coffee.  As long as someone ordered some kind of food, the booth could be ours for hours.  R. was a central figure in the coffee movement, and I'm happy to hear that she still as addicted.

In the summer before I went off to college and she went off to Europe, we actually started going out for coffee in the evenings after work, quite frequently just the two of us.  I enjoyed that time spent together, but by the end of the summer, I was getting caffeine sick, and unlike most people who pick up the coffee habit in university, I quit the stuff altogether and went off coffee for almost 15 years, not picking it up again until Easter Sunday 2010 (don't ask how I know the precise date).

I wonder if she's been guzzling oceans of coffee in the intervening years, or if she similarly went off coffee at some point.

Bonding over coffee...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

November 24/13

Fuck my life, how much more can go wrong tonight?!


Who is the dumbass who set off a liquid Tide bomb in her bedroom, setting in motion a scrubfest accompanied by an enormous amount of self-loathing?  This girl, right here!

Etienne tried to comfort me by saying that all things considered, I had dropped the second best thing possible (soap, after water), but it got all over the bed, the light-coloured carpets, and various items and furnishings, and believe me, that dark, dark blue soap?  It's not something you can just rub out of the carpet.  I gave up and I admit defeat.  On my next pay cheque, I'll need to go get a steam cleaner and hope that the blue soap will just dissolve and come out.

Due to the soap landing all over the bed, I then had to wash the bedding, which meant having to put the duvet back in the duvet cover.  It was during this process that I managed to scrape and cut my finger on the ceiling.  Yes, you read that right.  The ceiling.

I'm a special little snowflake...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

November 23/13

In recent months, I've been a little preoccupied with loss of contact.  Until we started planning our trip to Yk, K. and I hadn't actually spoken for some months.  Until his birfday last week, I hadn't spoken to D. and I hadn't spoken in two years.  And as for my other brother, I don't think I've spoken to him since 2005.  Rod's mother called me last month for Thanksgiving, and I hadn't spoken to her since last xmas. 

Are you seeing a theme here?

I've lost touch with great people in my life.

Well, in last night's drink-induced stroll down memory lane, I was overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting to reach out to an old friend from high school.  R. is one of the few who isn't on facebook, and I've had news of her over the years from other friends (Hello, Speedy!), but we lost touch about 15 years ago.  After high school, I went off to school and totally drove my life off a cliff, while R. went to spend a year abroad.  We still kept in touch despite the distance, but in the mean time, I had started dating A. who was older and didn't really mix well with my friends.  When R. came back, we spent very little time together because of A.  R. and I caught up again when I found Speedy a couple of years later, but despite all of us living in Edmonton, we just didn't spend time together.  R. ended up marrying a local professional athlete, eventually moving away from Edmonton, and I went about my ridiculous Post-Secondary Odyssey that eventually brought me here to Ottawa.  These things happen, right?

Well, this afternoon, I decided, 'what the hell, I'll google for her.'  I didn't know if she still went by her maiden name or married name, so I started with the maiden name, and BINGO!  Found her!  There was some back and forth with myself about the propriety of emailing her, just out of the blue, but once more, figured, 'what the hell, just do it!'  At least I can say I'm making an effort.

So, if I've fallen out of touch with you, and you are googleable...be warned.  I might get imbibing and drop in on you too.  But then, if you are reading this, shame on you for not contacting me!  Chances are either I'd be really excited to hear from you, or far more rarely, I've been wondering what I would say to you, and this could be a real gong show worth witnessing.

Stay in touch...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 22, 2013

November 22/13

Sorry, folks!  I'm taking the night off to enjoy some drinks and the company of my lovely partner, Etienne!

Good times...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

November 21/13

I hate surprise tests.

This afternoon, literally seconds after I told my friend R. that I wasn't going to be doing testing for my levels after this term in French because the situation with the teacher switch really messed up the confidence I was slowly building up, I arrived to class to find today (indeed, this week) was the day we'd be put through the mock oral test.  Life sucks!

The reason I started to panic is because I'd missed last week because I was sick, and I hadn't studied up on what I missed because the teacher had failed to get back to me to tell me what was covered.

I can say at least that I was definitely taking the right level of class, at least in relation to my oral competency.  When I was tested to determine what level of class to put me in, they hesitated between putting me in Advanced A-level (Not a beginner, but not intermediate) and beginner's B-Level (Intermediate) before deciding on the A-level course.  The interlocutor made it clear that she felt that if I thought A-level was not advanced enough, I should switch into the B-level class in the first week.  Yeah, that didn't happen.

Don't get me wrong, I think I've been relearning rapidly, but the fact is, I haven't had a French class since high school... like, 16 or 17 years ago.  I'm not going into a room with people who largely have been taking French for some time now, or are there to refresh their skills ahead of mandatory periodic testing.

Besides, the snap mock test proved I have a long way to go, in terms of catching up in French and in terms of managing my stupid anxiety. 

More confidence...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

November 20/13

This morning, I woke up and as usual, I checked my phone for emails, news, etc.  But when I checked the old ball and chain (facebook), I was pleasantly surprised by an unusual invitation.

I have this friend, and he goes by the screen name of Ernie Goodguy, so I'll refer to him by that name.  Ernie made a momentous decision a few years ago, and he picked up his life and relocated to Cambodia.  Ex-pat Ernie settled and made a life for himself, including a lovely little family and a good little business.  It's been amazing watching his life from afar, and I'll admit I'm frequently jealous.  I'm also not blind to the troubles of being an ex-pat, thanks to Ernie (and Gail!), as I've watched his struggle to get documentation so his family can come to Canada, and I suspect if I were to ever venture into the ex-pat community, the lessons I've learned from his experience (and Gail's!) would be my guide.

Anyway, the invitation was this: Ernie turns 50 in March, and in advance of that, he's invited friends and family to come celebrate with him. 

First of all, I'm flattered to receive the invitation at all...have I mentioned that I've never actually met Ernie in real life?  He and I got to know each other through contact on a website (no, it wasn't a dating site) some years ago, and we've just sort of stayed in touch.

Second, I'm not kidding, I've always wanted to go to Cambodia.  I think I've admitted here (or on the other blog), that as a kid, one of my favourite pastimes was to spend hours studying my atlas book, and this place, I'll admit, captured my attention the most when I'd come to the pages of Southeast Asia.  There was just something fascinating...it stood out because this atlas was of a time when the country was labelled 'Kampuchea' but had in brackets under the name "Cambodia."  Also, it actually included a notation that I didn't understand at the time, but now find so tragic, about the locations of where towns, cities and villages used to be.  I was just too young to understand the horrors of the Khmer Rouge regime at the time. 

But my interest intensified as I got older, and I just know that if I were ever to venture into that part of the world, I would likely not go unless I could ensure that I went to Cambodia in addition to wherever else.  Sure, I'll go to Thailand or Vietnam or Malaysia or The Philippines, or wherever, but I'd better be going to Cambodia too.

However, despite the moment of excitement and wishful thinking, the fact is that I'm too broke to go.  In a moment of wishful thinking at lunch today, I checked the travel websites for deals, and the best I could get was just under $3000 for two tickets.  It would be doable if I really, really cut down on my expenses, to pay for the tickets, but with a laptop on the verge of failure, my debt still weighing me down, and the holiday season coming up, I just can't swing it.  Total bummer.

I'd hate to end this entry on an "I wish I was there" note, because that's not in the spirit of this blog, so instead, I will end it with hopes for more opportunities like this in the future.

Keeping hope alive...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

November 19/13

Today, I realized that my Masters' degree was an epic challenge for me.

All Masters' programs are challenge, and I tip my hat to any of us who has survived one, but it occurred to me after I scouted another Masters program I'd like to pursue (yes, another...) that the SFU Master of Public Policy degree is not for the faint of heart, though my experience of fainting at school which in a roundabout way leads to two and half weeks of bedrest might suggest otherwise ;-)

This other Masters program requires 47 credits as part of completion, and so to get a frame of reference about what that meant, I went back and checked in on my SFU transcripts, and I was shocked to see that the MPP required 70 (yes, 7-0) credits.  That translated into 14 courses at 5 credits each, plus a project on BC priorities, plus a required co-op work term which you might have to travel for (READ: how I came to be in Ottawa), plus a Masters Capstone project.  And that doesn't factor in jobs, lives, and hobbies.

Our first year was a gong show of wretched economics assignments, brutal overnight political assignments, hours spent in computer labs fighting with ordinary least squares regressions and SPSS analysis, tense arguments with or between professors and guest lecturers, and the stressful process of interviewing and running down co-op opportunities.

There is almost no break between the last exam of spring semester and starting said co-op experience, and in my case, it meant that in less than 24 hours, I went from going to Dhaka, Bangladesh for the summer to going to Ottawa.  Most of my cohort were fortunate and had co-ops back in Vancouver, but for a lot of us, we had to travel and be away from home all summer.

Again, barely a break before we dive right into year two, where we hit the ground sprinting to begin data collection, ethics reviews, and ultimately writing our Capstone projects while going to classes, though the assignments tend to take into consideration that we're building major projects that need to be defended.  Plus, again, the stress of knowing that we need to find jobs, so we have to constantly be monitoring the job opportunities.  In my case, I had a job offer before I even left Ottawa, so this didn't worry me as much, but I know others were under the gun to find jobs to start paying back their loans.

And then...The Defense.  That scary-as-all-get-out moment which sees the culmination of your year's work judged and questioned and scrutinized, and you just have to hope that you get lucky and come through with a "passed with minor revisions" or "passed with no revisions" (which is rare, so good on you, Sammy!).  Mine was very early, on March 8th because I needed to pack up and move to Ottawa before the last week of April.

Against the backdrop of all of this, I got married, had temporary guardianship of my niece, had two and a half weeks of bed rest, spent the summer away from my home and family, had significant family problems, was sick a lot, got divorced, and prepared to move across the country.

The credit structure of this other program is quite different, and it looks like the demands on time and resources are just as intense as the MPP experience, but after I looked back on those two years, I realized that I am so ready to begin again.

Wish me luck!

...Wish you were here.

Monday, November 18, 2013

November 18/13

Oh my kee-rist, there was just too much going on today, and I was really spoiled for choice in stuff to share with you, and this created a bit of a problem for me.  How do you pick just one thing to share?  Well, I couldn't, so I decided to short hand the runners-up, and long hand that one thing to share.

In no particular order of significance:

Toronto City Council votes to strip Rob Ford's budget - I watched the live stream, including the moment when raging bull Robbie barreled down on and took out councilwoman Pam McConnell.  My thoughts: this man is seriously deranged.  Even if your brother is in a shouting match with someone, you don't go ripping in intent on letting fly the fists of fury, and you don't do it in City Hall Council Chambers, and you especially don't do it while taking out older ladies.  If you seriously think Rob Ford should stay where he is and shouldn't take a leave of absence to deal with his obvious issues (and there are many), can you please explain to me why?  Without parroting his reasoning or the speaking points of embarrassed conservatives?  Just in your gut...what is it?

Wal-mart holds a canned food drive--for its own workers - A Wal-mart in Ohio put out a bin in the employee lounge, asking employees to donate canned food to help their less fortunate co-workers have a full Thanksgiving meal.  My thoughts: this is just gross.  I don't think I need to get into this any further, other than to say to Wal-mart, 'hey, how about you just simply pay them a LIVING WAGE instead, jerks?'

An Alabama school is in trouble for a historically and racially insensitive banner at a football game - The cheerleaders demonstrated a saddening lack of empathy or understanding when, as a taunt to the competitor, the Indians (don't need to get started on this again--it's also just dumb), they created a rip-through banner that said "Hey Indians, get ready to leave in a trail of tears. Round 2."  My thoughts: No.  Just, No.  I get it, I was an ignorant, apathetic, self-centred teen once and I guarantee that I said and did hurtful things, but I've had to take my lumps and learn about empathy, often the hard way.  To turn a shameful, harmful, dark chapter of American history into a "cheeky taunt" shows that their collective sense of empathy is as yet underdeveloped.  Just, No, girls.  No.

Lifelong Adventurer and fellow Blogger Gail at Large tweeted today about how creepy she finds the term "Thought Leader" - She found it in a Forbes article about 46 overused, tired business jargon terms that need to go away, and I won't lie, in general, Government is painfully slow at adopting trends, and the age of these buzzwords has arrived, certainly in my department.  My thoughts: I'm guilty of a few on the list myself, but otherwise, if you use any of most of them in any sincere fashion, I roll my eyes at you and automatically deduct IQ points.  Most of the time, these buzzwords and phrases are meaningless, and show that you either have sipped the kool-aid (tiptoeing on use of one of the phrases on the list) of Corporate, or you lack creativity in expressing yourself.  I seriously never want to hear anyone tell me a document needs to be more "blue-sky thinking" ever again.

I could elaborate on my thoughts or feelings about any of these worthy items noted, but instead, today, I chose to share with you a moment of mirth and merriness.  I know, don't die from the shock, please!

Today, a cat in Bonnyville stole the show with his intense desire to be on camera...literally.  Please click through the CBC link, and enjoy not only the photo gallery (includes 12 pictures), but also the video too.

To the lighter moments in life...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

November 17/13

Holy crap, I have a brother who is 46 years old! 

The age gap between me and the rest of the kids is fairly sizable; from oldest to youngest, there's 11 years.  And I've always conceived of that difference in age as being this 11 year window, until today, when I realized that I will be 35 years old this year, which means not just that I have a brother who is 11 years older than me, but for the first time, I conceived of it as meaning that I have a brother who is 46 years old! 

Daaaaaamn!

We OLD!

While I wrap my head around this fact, I do want to put out a big Happy Birfday wish to DB, and let him know, I'm cheering him on from far away!

Brother...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

November 16/13

Last night was not fun, but the troubles settled down once I dosed up on the pepto and just rested.  I was early to bed, and this morning, I woke up feeling hungover, but otherwise it looked like the trouble had passed.  Which is a good thing, because I was determined to go to the Bytowne Theatre to see In a World... come hell, or high water.  I wanted to see it back in September, but the timing never worked out because of the moving preparations.  It was on the schedule for late this afternoon or tomorrow night, and Sunday nights rarely work out for going to the movies, so it had to be today.

I took another dose of pepto this morning, steered clear of foods that would aggravate my tummy, and hoped for the best.

The movie did not disappoint.  It's a great little indie film written by Lake Bell.  She plays a voice coach, struggling to get into the voiceover business and trying to manage the relationships in her life.  It was a smart, funny film, and the supporting cast included a fantastic line-up. 

Unfortunately, Etienne's health didn't hold up, and we're turning in early because he has a headache.  I guess it keeps things balanced...now we're even on tummy troubles and headaches.

Better health...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 15, 2013

November 15/13

So guess who came home from work early with tummy troubles?  Me.  Not Etienne, he was home from work already, still recovering from the bug.

Pass the Pepto...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

November 14/13

....Aaaannnndd we're both home sick today.  Etienne's got some gross stomach bug, and I am fighting off both a sinus problem and a persistent migraine. 

So it was because we were home that we were treating to seeing and hearing the Rob Ford 'eating pussy' remarks pretty much as they happened.  The most comical part was not that he made the statement that he did; honestly, the most comical part was watching the news anchors and reporters trying to explain the situation without actually referring to or using the word "pussy."  It's one thing to explain the expletive-laced taped from last week, but it's entirely another to try to report on the very specific remarks Ford made in a delicate way, and you can't NOT report on it because the remarks ARE the story.

Naturally, the best reporting on the remarks came from The Daily Show with Jon Stewart because it is a comedy/satire show, but for sheer comedy-because-it-is-so-painfully-awkward value, I'm giving this one to the established professional television and audio media presenters for the use of ever so many "delicate" euphemisms and workarounds.

This whole Rob and Doug Ford sideshow is just amazing...it's live, unscripted reality television.  One might make the argument that it's what Jersey Shore or The Real World or Gene Simmon's Family Jewels strives to be: edgy, provocative, and a ratings juggernaut.  But this situation seems to go beyond that.  It's almost an unexpected reversal of "Reality TV imitating life."  I believe this is Life imitating Reality TV.

Who knows what is going to happen next and how it will be reported...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

November 13/13

It's the Wade Hamer Challenge Cup today in Yellowknife.  If you aren't from Yellowknife, you have no idea what this even means, I know.

There are only two high schools in Yellowknife.  There is the public school, Sir John Franklin High school, where my father went for a year back in the stone ages (Love you, daddy!), and where my sister went to high school once we moved to Yellowknife, back in the Industrial Revolution age (Love you, K!), and then there's the Catholic school, St. Patrick High School, which I attended some time last century.  To be clear, there was no Catholic fervor leading to my attendance at St. Pat's...when we moved to Yellowknife, it was only two blocks up the hill from where we lived, and I think sheer convenience won out over any religious considerations.  As I got older, it was just easier to keep me at St. Pat's with my friends rather than transfer me over to Sir John. 

So there was a rivalry between my Sir John Alum Father and Sister (and later my brother-in-law who taught at Sir John), and me, the lone Fighting Irish ("fighting" dropped during my high school years in a gross abuse of School Board power over the wishes of the students).  Naturally, with only two high schools in town, there is an innate sense of rivalry focused on sports and competitions, but because of the small population and the relatively isolated location of Yellowknife, the rivalry is not sustainable in real life terms. 

ANYWAY...some 29 years ago, there was a challenge to a hockey game between the two schools, and of course, it became an annual event.  Back in my day, the game was played on a Thursday night, and there were pep rallies and cheerleaders (and yes, I was one), and we'd all crowd into the hockey arena to watch our teams battle it out for supremacy.  There would be a rally on the Friday to celebrate either the win or the team, and then life would get back to normal for another year.

I'm told in recent years, the timing has changed to midday on a week day, which might have something to do with preventing delinquency, which I guess I understand, but I find less fun.  My first year as a cheerleader, I was grabbed by an older boy from Sir John who intended to take me outside for a snow wash, but ended up being attacked by a St. Pat's mob, and in the process, he dropped me head-first onto a concrete floor, resulting in a slight concussion and a bump on my head that remains to this day.  So yeah, I guess the administrators have some good reason to make this a daytime event.

This year is my second nephew's first year in high school, and he is going to St. Pat's.  Why?  Because my sister now works there, and she's converted from Falcon to Irish!  My brother-in-law is still in the Public School system, but he now teaches at one of the elementary/middle schools (in fact, the one that nephew attended from K-8), so things just sort of worked out that he would go to school at St. Pat's.

What does all of this babbling have to do with the Challenge Cup?  Well, this nephew and his brother are star athletes, and both excel at hockey, to the point where both play on teams with older players.  Their father was on the NHL track, and it seems the sons are too, if they choose it.

St. Pat's Boys' Team WON!!  In O/T, my nephew scored the winning goal AND completed (get this) his Hat Trick.

Who is one proud Aunt?

...Wish you were here.

(GO IRISH!)

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

November 12/13

Back in August, I had my first madeleine ever.  The madeleine, a French concoction, is a small, shell-shaped sponge cake, lemon-based in flavour, with hints of shredded nuts or fruits.  They are very fatty, as melted butter is a key ingredient, and they are just the perfect treat.  You could have one, or lots.

Since August, I've been craving them hardcore, but they are a little too complex and time-consuming for me to make, what with my other activities and work, so I've been suffering withdrawal for some time now.  I know Starbucks sells packages of them, but I found them so industrial tasting, they were immediately disappointing.  Well, back in October, we were in Gatineau to drop off our moving boxes at a friend's place, and we needed to buy some stuff, so we stopped at a local shopping centre.  We went into the massive Loblaw, and I was overjoyed to find a bag of madeleines in the bakery section.  I wanted to buy two bags, but we are talking about perishable foods here, and no matter how much I want to stuff my face with the cakes, I knew I couldn't get through them all before they went bad.

Now I'm suffering major withdrawal again, as I can't find anything but the gross Starbucks ones in Ottawa.  I spent quite some time this evening scouring the internet, and all I can come up with is that there is a bakery over near Little Italy that does them...no other bakeries indicated they do them.  So without a car, these delicious little treats will continue to elude me, driving me mad and making me cranky.

Good madeleines in Ottawa...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, November 11, 2013

November 11/13

This weekend, it's become clear that I just haven't been taking care of myself.  First, it was the hair.  Then it occurred to me that I really don't have much in the way of sleepwear.  I have old shirts I wear, a few nightgowns good for warm weather, but for colder days, I have nothing but an old, worn pair of flannel pajama pants with Winnie the Pooh on them.  Money is always tight, and a good pair of pajamas doesn't come cheap.  Nor do I buy cheap because I don't want to waste my precious resources on stuff that will fall apart quickly or easily.  I need to invest in products that last.

So after lunch with S. and M., I headed to The Bay to meet Etienne, and after we ran a few errands, I decided, despite having spent my expendable money for this pay cheque on my hair, I needed to put an end to the silliness and buy a proper pajama set.  I chose a good quality shirt and good quality pants, and I came home.  Because I didn't try them on in the store, I decided to try them now, this afternoon, rather than do it at bedtime and find out they were the wrong fit or uncomfortable.  That way I could exchange them if there was something wrong.

I may never wear anything else ever again.

These pajamas are insanely comfortable, and grown-up cute.  I won't be getting rid of my Winnie the Pooh pajamas any time soon, but it's nice to know that I have pajamas that won't embarrass me should I be seen in them.

I'm not kidding.  I can get rid of everything else in my wardrobe, I just need these jammies only and forever.

Comfort...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

November 10/13

I guess the soldiers and veterans of war fought and died for our freedom to be total assholes.

My respect for the poppy as a symbol was diminished when I found a Reddit (discussed earlier this week) page where the Canadian Legion had threatened the Reddit page administrators because they were using a picture of the poppy, which the Legion has trademarked.  The comments about the fight were enlightening, as veterans weighed in, and were decidedly split...many had no love or respect for the Legion and think it's a self-serving, selfish organization for its jealous protection of its trademark, while others just asked for the poppy to be changed out of respect to veterans and don't have much to say about the Legion itself.  These are veterans...being told that a picture of a poppy is enough to instigate a lawsuit.  Is that not perverse?  These are people who our leaders tell us fought to protect our freedoms, and that includes the freedom to be a pacifist in a white poppy or to say things we don't agree with.

I've watched this year's battle over the white poppy unfold on my social media, and really, instead of seeing anyone try to understand the history of the white poppy, or why some would choose to wear it, I see defensiveness and name-calling on both sides.  The last straw for me was very early this morning, when I was checking Twitter, and found a tweet by a Canadian singer/songwriter which called everyone who wears the white poppy, assholes.  Similarly, I'm seeing old friends use the language of name-calling and 'hate' and it angers me.

The thing is, I've seen and read about veterans who wear both: they wear the red to remember and pay respect to their fallen comrades, and they wear the white because they want to remember that what they went to war for was peace.  These people are few and far between, but they seem to be growing in ranks, if testimonials are any indication. 


The white poppy is not a new thing.  To the contrary, it has endured for nearly as long as the red poppy, but most people don't know that, thanks to shitty, biased reporting by "news" outlets like Sun News.  The white poppy began after a group of British WWI widows started wearing them and handing them out.  They lost husbands, brothers, sons, friends, and family members to war, and they wanted it to end.  It's important to remember the context: WWI was supposed to be the war to end all wars.  Those women and men wanted no one else to suffer the same kind of loss. 

So, if you see someone wearing a white poppy, before you start shouting sacrilege and calling them assholes, maybe stop and ask yourself if perhaps they haven't already sacrificed to the gods of war, and want everyone to remember it was all done in the name of Peace.

A little understanding...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

November 9/13

Holy crap, I really needed a hair appointment.  My hair was is bad shape.  I honestly can't remember the last time I went to the salon.

This morning, my hair was very long, going halfway down my back, and it was a blah, nondescript blonde colour.  It was very dry and damaged, and my split ends had split ends which had split ends. 



Step 1: have my stylist indiscriminately hack off eight or nine inches of hair

 


Step 2: colour process

Step 3: get a *fantastic* scalp massage from the talented young lady shampooing the colour out

Step 4: spend about 45 minutes sitting there while my stylist works very carefully to ensure a high, straight bob.

Step 5: swing head wildly about because I am free of about 11 inches of hair.

By noon, it was bobbed and deep, dark brown.  Unfortunately, I couldn't donate the hair this time because it was so damaged, it wouldn't be good for anything, unless wig makers are developing bad hair day wigs.

I really need to remember to take some time and money and take care of myself.  I can't believe I was walking around with fucked-up bad hair for so long.

Remember to take care of yourself...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 8, 2013

November 8/13

I don't know what Reddit is, or how it works, or what it does.  No clue.  Nor do I know anything about Tumblr and the like, but that's neither here nor there.

So, I was messing about online during one of the rare breaks I take at work, when I came across a Reddit that I was just glued to, and I have to admit, it sparked a lot of witty thoughts, but I had no outlet for them.  It's not like I could tweet them in 140 characters, and few people would understand anyway.

But in my frustration, I did tweet about missing Orkut, and the Yahoo! Books and Literature Chat/Group people I spent much time with online.  I developed some great friendships filled with humour and laughter and tears and cheers with people I'd never met in real life, and it really challenged me to keep and sharpen my wits.

Rather quickly, Gail at Large reminded me that it has been almost 10 years since Orkut went online, and that meant that Gail and I have known each other for about nine and a half years!  That's mindblowing, because she's such an amazing person, I can't imagine that I haven't known her all my life.

We have a lot of complaints about technology and social media and the like, but quite honestly, moments like today, when I realized I'm lucky to have ever met Gail and so many others, they remind me to savor how rich my life is for knowing these people.

Web connections...

...Wish you were here.

Thursday, November 7, 2013

November 7/13

I'm sorry, but I'm just dragging hardcore today.  It was barely 10 am before I was feeling like I really needed a Friday pick-me-up, and I spent the morning pretty much dreading French class this afternoon.

The school that I have my lessons with has really done a fuck-up.  I mean, really.

I started the classes, my first in 17 years, in late September, and I was extremely apprehensive to start with.  My comprehension is moderately good, but I can't speak because of my limited vocabulary, my current inability to think in French fast enough, and a lack of confidence.  This is normal.  A lot of people I know feel the same.  And it goes without saying that I can't really write in French either.

Well, I started with a teacher, Joanne, and she was quite patient and understanding with me.  We didn't just run worksheets and such...she jumped around, she encouraged vocabulary questions, she made us carry on simple conversations about what we did with our weekends or at work.  I was gaining confidence.

And then the school done fucked up.

It had bid on a contract for language lessons with another department, stating that it would provide teachers with the required security clearance (it's common, particularly if the teachers give lessons onsite), and it won the contract, but then the department made the decision to move the start date up to October instead of January, which meant there was no time to hire new teachers and get them cleared in time.  So the school did what it thought was best...it took the teachers with clearance it already has from their current classes.  We were understandably pissed, and it causes no end of problems for the teachers as well.

Well, two weeks ago, we were given a new teacher.  A youngish woman from France who had been in Canada teaching French to kids in Aboriginal communities in Northern Quebec.  She seemed nice, if a little nervous, but we didn't think anything of it.

We arrived to class last week, and fuck if we didn't have yet another teacher.  NO explanation was given for why this was the case.  I had to find out from a girl in another class in the same time slot--the teacher didn't think she was cut out to teach adults.  The new teacher seems professional, but all we did was worksheet after worksheet, with no chance to let what we learned soak in, so by the end of class, half the people had left, and those who stayed were in rough shape.  This is not the way I learn.

This whole episode does not instill confidence in the professionalism of the school, particularly since they have made no efforts to reach out to all the affected students.  We're all in the dark.

Well, today, things were moderately better, but it took a much-needed breakdown in decorum in the classroom to loosen things up and finally relax.

At this point, I can't say that I will be in any shape to do my levels testing by the end of the term, and I just abhor the colossal waste of money invested in my French training where I can't produce a desired result (taking the tests)...it's so frustrating.  And all I can do is show up, week after week, and hope that there will be some semblance of continuity so that I can rebuild my confidence and pick up where I left off before this whole debacle.

Fun with learning...

...Wish you were here.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

November 6/13

So, I've been trying to avoid it, but it's not fucking possible.

The News.  It's a real shit storm, folks.  Between the Senate shining a spotlight on the colossal errors in judgment Harper shows for appointments, the Rob Ford Crack Cocaine Sideshow, and the Quebec Charter causing people to feel unsafe just walking around the streets, there is literally no relief from how fucked up reality is, and there's just no need for fictional shows and "reality" tv.  I'm exhausted just thinking of everything that is happening, and there are new revelations by the hour, so it should come as no surprise that as some point this afternoon, I stuck a pencil in my hair bun in a moment of distraction, and ended up going home with it there.  I was sitting on the couch for almost an hour, just flipping through TV channels before I noticed it.

We need a break...

...Wish you were here.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

November 5/13

So, I just finished watching New Girl, and tonight it featured guest star Taye Diggs.

Ladies...use protection...


Aaaaaaannnnnddd I think I'm pregnant.


Let's be honest...people like this make us feel all schlumpy and underachieving because if it's possible for them to look like that, then theoretically it is possible for us as well.  But fantasies are made of stuff like this...



Never forget the value of fantasies...

...Wish you were here.

Monday, November 4, 2013

November 4/13

This...


Keep cheeky...

...Wish you were here.

Sunday, November 3, 2013

November 3/13

Daylight Savings Time ended at the ungawdly hour of 2 am this morning.

You know how I know this?  Because my Twitter and Facebook-light feeds are awash with friends and family members complaining about their young kids or family pets waking up insanely early for a Sunday morning, not giving any consideration or thought to their poor parents or human companions.  There were no end to the complaints that included gentle threats of retaliation in 15 years.

And as one of those people who

a) suffers seasonal affective depression; and
b) never adjusts well to the time changes,

I have to say that I understand the confusion for kids and pets.  Why do we do this stupid thing again?  Because anything that throws off my circadian rhythms even just a bit does me no good, and society certainly doesn't benefit from my confusion.

I don't know that I will ever forgive the world for DST.

Going back to bed...

...Wish you were here.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

November 2/13

Holy shit!

I just saw this tweet:

And I know now that I am officially old.

For those who may be a smidge older than me and not in the know, this boy man was once the baby swimming after a dollar bill on the cover of Nirvana's MONSTER debut album, Nevermind, the second studio album of the band, and by far one of the biggest albums of my generation.  I first heard Smells Like Teen Spirit in Amanda Dei's basement on MuchMusic, and it blew my fucking 12 year old mind.  That's right...I wasn't even 13.  And there was this awesome music that we thrashed around to wildly, shouting the nonsense lyrics...I had no idea what they meant, and to be honest, I didn't care. 
That album was a turning point for me...in almost an instant I outgrew the bubble gum pop (though not totally abandoning it), and the flannel shirt craze that Seattle grunge exported to the world gave me a place to hide my skin-and-bone frame.  The insecure, awkward, skinny, ugly, little duckling in me felt a little more okay about myself because here was this band, this music, this album that said 'FUCK YOU' to the cutesy, California blonde establishment that had no time or place for people like me.


And now that chubby little cherub symbol of my generation is all grown up and has a biggest album of his generation, though as an old fuddy-duddy, I'm at a loss as to what that might be.

Time marches on...

...Wish you were here.

Friday, November 1, 2013

November 1/13

First of all, yay me for surviving another October.

Second, it is November 1st.  Inevitably, that means that people I know are going to embark on the crazy adventure of writing a book in 30 days.  There's this little thing called the National Novel Writing Month on the internet, though it is more popularly known as NaNoWriMo. The idea is that you sign up, set a target of writing a 50,000 word novel in a month, and you get to track your progress and get encouragement and the like from fellow writers.  It's been going on since 1999, and according to the website, over 100 of these books have been published by the traditional publishing houses, while hundreds more have been put out by smaller publishers or self-published.  And actually, if you look at the list of titles published by the large firms, there are some fairly well-promoted titles in there--ones I've seen in my local Big Box Book Store.

I can't believe it's that time already.  Last year, my social media sites were abuzz with updates from friends and family members taking part, but this year, I haven't heard a peep out of anyone that they are taking part.  I don't know if they are, but they are choosing to operate on the stealth, or if the stars are not properly aligned this year, or if maybe the insanity of the venture was just something they had to do once and now they are done.

If, by some chance, you are known to me and you are embarking on NaNoWriMo this year, I bid you good luck...now get to work, you're losing time reading this.

Creativity on the clock...

...Wish you were here.