I could bore you with details of my first day on the new job, but it was really just setting myself up and doing some light subject matter reading. The fun begins tomorrow when we sit down to discuss what I'll be doing.
But instead, I'm going to share with you this: Derek.
If you don't have Netflix, you are missing one of the true delights of television. It's a show that will make you laugh, cry, and just be that much more aware of how amazing life can be. These are characters and sentiments that seem so far removed from your everyday life, but yet you can still relate to them, and that's the simple brilliance of the show.
Tonight, we watched all of season two, and I cried buckets, laughed heartily, and best of all, I was just glad to see the world through such goodhearted eyes.
Watch and enjoy...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Sunday, June 8, 2014
June 8/14
Today is the last day of my vacation. Tomorrow morning, I'll get up, get ready, and go to work. I'll head off to my oversized government complex, arriving sometime around 9 am, and head to the bank of elevators. I'll enter an elevator, and select the third floor. Not the fourth. That's right, tomorrow, I start a new job.
I have to confess, I'm not feeling all that nervous about the change. I've been ready for a new challenge for a while, and I'm coming into this having earned a good deal of confidence from my old and new colleagues. Over three years ago, when I arrived at the department, I was better known as Etienne's girlfriend than I was for my own work; tomorrow, I'll still be known as Etienne's girlfriend (understandable though...I am moving into the same directorate that he's in), but now I'll also be known for my experience and abilities (and let's be honest...maybe my attitude too).
Today, Etienne and I went down Elgin, sat on a patio, and just hung out, reading magazines and chatting. It occurred to me that it was Sunday, and instead of begrudging the fact that tomorrow was Monday, I was feeling very good about it. I've had two weeks of vacation, and I'm feeling pretty relaxed. The stresses of my old job (many self-imposed) have disappeared, and I've mentally moved on. I'm ready for the new files.
Moving on...
...Wish you were here.
I have to confess, I'm not feeling all that nervous about the change. I've been ready for a new challenge for a while, and I'm coming into this having earned a good deal of confidence from my old and new colleagues. Over three years ago, when I arrived at the department, I was better known as Etienne's girlfriend than I was for my own work; tomorrow, I'll still be known as Etienne's girlfriend (understandable though...I am moving into the same directorate that he's in), but now I'll also be known for my experience and abilities (and let's be honest...maybe my attitude too).
Today, Etienne and I went down Elgin, sat on a patio, and just hung out, reading magazines and chatting. It occurred to me that it was Sunday, and instead of begrudging the fact that tomorrow was Monday, I was feeling very good about it. I've had two weeks of vacation, and I'm feeling pretty relaxed. The stresses of my old job (many self-imposed) have disappeared, and I've mentally moved on. I'm ready for the new files.
Moving on...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
June 7/14
Oh boy, okay. Today, we drove an hour into Quebec to help Etienne's father move into his new house. We didn't know what to expect, other than the stuff shipped for Geneva to arrive, but we certainly didn't expect to find contractors working on renovations and the shipping company unloading and setting up most of the furniture. We'd gone in thinking it would be a day of heavy lifting and labour, but ended up just taking care of a few things like cleaning and some light unpacking/assembly.
It's a nice little country house on a marshy pond that turns out to be protected for wildlife. As far as I can tell so far, his neighbours include a retired professor, a beaver, a pair of nesting ducks, and itinerant deer. Oh, and every damn bug species that inhabits Quebec.
While it's a pleasant experience, I can't say I have any desire for the country living. We live in an area of the country where weekend cottages are a big thing; people here love to camp or cottage their weekends away. When I was in Ottawa in 2009 for my co-op term, I was taken for a camping trip near Mont Tremblant. I tried to make the best of it, cracking jokes and being a (fairly) good sport, but my friend Donovan, theperpetrator gracious host of my camping adventure, swore in the most good-natured way that he would never, ever take me camping again. I think he figured out I wasn't the country-loving type when I wrapped my feet in my only dry pair of socks and plastic bags to keep the water out. Or maybe he figured it out when he dragged me down Mont Tremblant after a rainstorm.
Now, if any family is reading, of course you'll remind me that I had no trouble going out to grandparents' cabin at Salt River, but I would remind you that I was just a child...unaware of how dumb the countryside is. Plus, I only went because my pink chair that Grampa made me was there (and that's the story I'm sticking to).
Darling, I love you, but give me Park Avenue...
...Wish you were here.
It's a nice little country house on a marshy pond that turns out to be protected for wildlife. As far as I can tell so far, his neighbours include a retired professor, a beaver, a pair of nesting ducks, and itinerant deer. Oh, and every damn bug species that inhabits Quebec.
While it's a pleasant experience, I can't say I have any desire for the country living. We live in an area of the country where weekend cottages are a big thing; people here love to camp or cottage their weekends away. When I was in Ottawa in 2009 for my co-op term, I was taken for a camping trip near Mont Tremblant. I tried to make the best of it, cracking jokes and being a (fairly) good sport, but my friend Donovan, the
Now, if any family is reading, of course you'll remind me that I had no trouble going out to grandparents' cabin at Salt River, but I would remind you that I was just a child...unaware of how dumb the countryside is. Plus, I only went because my pink chair that Grampa made me was there (and that's the story I'm sticking to).
Darling, I love you, but give me Park Avenue...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, June 6, 2014
June 6/14
Another shopping post, so if you don't want to hear about my purchasing prowess, turn away!
This afternoon, I treated myself to a matinee showing of 'A Million Ways to Die in the West' out at Gloucester (Review: Seth MacFarlane writes a movie to get Charlize Theron to kiss him lots), and then to a quick trip to the Jacob Outlet store.
Now, in case you haven't heard, Jacob had announced earlier this year that it was going to be shutting down and liquidating, so I've been dropping by to see how the sales have been progressing. Well, at the outlet, really well. Granted, the issue at the outlets is that it's harder to come by the small/medium sizes, so I have to really pay attention to everything and then when I find something I like, carefully scour the racks to see if my sizes are available. Still, the stock is voluminous enough that you can collected a good-sized pile of items to try.
The deal is that things are already on sale, but there's an additional 60% off of the whole purchase if you are buying three items or more. So, a tank top originally tagged at $19.90 (before tax), marked down to $11 ended up being $3.20 because I bought three items. In all, I got $223.63 (tax included) worth of items (the tank top, a chemise and a dress) for $55.60. If you're curious, that's a total savings of 75%.
Ladies, if you have a Jacob Outlet nearby...go forth and good luck!
The Shopper's high...
...Wish you were here.
This afternoon, I treated myself to a matinee showing of 'A Million Ways to Die in the West' out at Gloucester (Review: Seth MacFarlane writes a movie to get Charlize Theron to kiss him lots), and then to a quick trip to the Jacob Outlet store.
Now, in case you haven't heard, Jacob had announced earlier this year that it was going to be shutting down and liquidating, so I've been dropping by to see how the sales have been progressing. Well, at the outlet, really well. Granted, the issue at the outlets is that it's harder to come by the small/medium sizes, so I have to really pay attention to everything and then when I find something I like, carefully scour the racks to see if my sizes are available. Still, the stock is voluminous enough that you can collected a good-sized pile of items to try.
The deal is that things are already on sale, but there's an additional 60% off of the whole purchase if you are buying three items or more. So, a tank top originally tagged at $19.90 (before tax), marked down to $11 ended up being $3.20 because I bought three items. In all, I got $223.63 (tax included) worth of items (the tank top, a chemise and a dress) for $55.60. If you're curious, that's a total savings of 75%.
Ladies, if you have a Jacob Outlet nearby...go forth and good luck!
The Shopper's high...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, June 5, 2014
June 5/14
I've had a raging headache all day, so unless you want it, I haven't got anything to share with you today. Sorry, check back in tomorrow :(
Pain relief...
...Wish you were here
Pain relief...
...Wish you were here
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
June 4/14
I may soon be a pseudo-adoptive squirrel gramma.
This morning, Purrball was so agitated, and until I got up and went to the windows in the living room, I had no idea why. Our apartment faces into a secluded inner courtyard, and there's not much out there, so we didn't plan on seeing much wildlife. Well, it turns out that there is a large, black squirrel who decided to drop by. Of course Purrball was agitated! She wanted the squirrel!
Eventually, I scared the squirrel off by opening the door, and I thought nothing of it...until this evening, when I noticed Purrball was agitated again, and I saw that the squirrel was not only back, but had brought a small pile of leaves, and was dozing on the pile. I was thought perhaps because the squirrel wasn't moving that it had died. I tapped on the glass, and it moved its head. Okay, alive, but maybe injured? Etienne and I fretted about the possibility of removing an injured squirrel, but we opened the door, and slowly, the squirrel moved, crawling onto the mesh screen. Then it let off a huge yawn, and I thought, "Oh you cheeky little bugger, you think you're nesting here?"
Off the little critter went once Etienne shooed it. He did a bit of quick googling, and we quickly learned that this squirrel is most likely a pregnant female, as they like to seek quiet, protective areas such as balconies to birth and raise their kits. So, yeah, let's just assume that we're dealing with a pregnant squirrel. But if this is what's actually happening, that means there's likely an imminent birth, followed by what could be four weeks or more of nesting until the kits are strong enough to leave with Mum.
We don't have a balcony, it's really just a small ledge protected by glass in front of the door, so it's indeed quite a snug little spot; but we're not encouraging her to stay, as we'd prefer she didn't birth here. It's not an ideal place, given that the caretaker and his family lives right below, and they have a young son who may scare the mum away from the nest. The squirrel doesn't seem phased by seeing Purrball, so that's not going to be a solution. It's dark now, so we're not going to be able to see if there's a black squirrel out there.
I'm too young to be a pseudo-adoptive squirrel gramma.
Wildlife...
...Wish you were here.
This morning, Purrball was so agitated, and until I got up and went to the windows in the living room, I had no idea why. Our apartment faces into a secluded inner courtyard, and there's not much out there, so we didn't plan on seeing much wildlife. Well, it turns out that there is a large, black squirrel who decided to drop by. Of course Purrball was agitated! She wanted the squirrel!
Eventually, I scared the squirrel off by opening the door, and I thought nothing of it...until this evening, when I noticed Purrball was agitated again, and I saw that the squirrel was not only back, but had brought a small pile of leaves, and was dozing on the pile. I was thought perhaps because the squirrel wasn't moving that it had died. I tapped on the glass, and it moved its head. Okay, alive, but maybe injured? Etienne and I fretted about the possibility of removing an injured squirrel, but we opened the door, and slowly, the squirrel moved, crawling onto the mesh screen. Then it let off a huge yawn, and I thought, "Oh you cheeky little bugger, you think you're nesting here?"
Off the little critter went once Etienne shooed it. He did a bit of quick googling, and we quickly learned that this squirrel is most likely a pregnant female, as they like to seek quiet, protective areas such as balconies to birth and raise their kits. So, yeah, let's just assume that we're dealing with a pregnant squirrel. But if this is what's actually happening, that means there's likely an imminent birth, followed by what could be four weeks or more of nesting until the kits are strong enough to leave with Mum.
We don't have a balcony, it's really just a small ledge protected by glass in front of the door, so it's indeed quite a snug little spot; but we're not encouraging her to stay, as we'd prefer she didn't birth here. It's not an ideal place, given that the caretaker and his family lives right below, and they have a young son who may scare the mum away from the nest. The squirrel doesn't seem phased by seeing Purrball, so that's not going to be a solution. It's dark now, so we're not going to be able to see if there's a black squirrel out there.
I'm too young to be a pseudo-adoptive squirrel gramma.
Wildlife...
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
June 3/14
Well, Tim Hudak officially ruined my day, so it's only fair I share it with you.
A little context: Tim Hudak is the inept leader of the Ontario Conservative Party. He's not good at, you know, people. What he lacks in charisma, he makes up for in.......? I dunno. Honestly, I can't seem to find anyone who likes or trusts the guy. Even among the few Conservatives I know.
As the stupid twit was called on to give his final statement in the Ontario Leaders' Debate this evening, (and you haven't seen it for yourself) he honest to fucking gawd uttered the words, "Hope is on the way."
I don't remember anything else he said after that statement. My brain short-circuited, and I was too busy answering Etienne what he incredulously asked me, "What did he just say?"
"He said, 'Hope is on the way.'"
Seriously, from damn near anyone else, that would be cliche, but from him, it was so patronizing and unbelievable. As in, Not to be believed.
Congratulations, Mr. Hudak...you've made grown, articulate men and women across the province revert to immature 10 year olds, yelling a collective "Barf-ola" across the Twitterverse.
Skeezy politicians...
...Wish you were here.
A little context: Tim Hudak is the inept leader of the Ontario Conservative Party. He's not good at, you know, people. What he lacks in charisma, he makes up for in.......? I dunno. Honestly, I can't seem to find anyone who likes or trusts the guy. Even among the few Conservatives I know.
As the stupid twit was called on to give his final statement in the Ontario Leaders' Debate this evening, (and you haven't seen it for yourself) he honest to fucking gawd uttered the words, "Hope is on the way."
I don't remember anything else he said after that statement. My brain short-circuited, and I was too busy answering Etienne what he incredulously asked me, "What did he just say?"
"He said, 'Hope is on the way.'"
Seriously, from damn near anyone else, that would be cliche, but from him, it was so patronizing and unbelievable. As in, Not to be believed.
Congratulations, Mr. Hudak...you've made grown, articulate men and women across the province revert to immature 10 year olds, yelling a collective "Barf-ola" across the Twitterverse.
Skeezy politicians...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, June 2, 2014
June 2/14
Sometimes, this blog can wax a little philosophical (READ: pretentious), and sometimes, it can be as fluffy as frou-frou girly pillows. Today, we're going with the latter.
This:
If this doesn't make you smile at the pure silliness of it, you are broken. Broken, I tell you.
Smile...
...Wish you were here.
This:
If this doesn't make you smile at the pure silliness of it, you are broken. Broken, I tell you.
Smile...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, June 1, 2014
June 1/14
The Poitras-Normandin household was a little under the weather today (Wine Flu), but in the wee small hours of the morning, as we were settling into bed, I had promised Etienne I would go get him a gluten-free apple turnover from his local GF-deli, so I dutifully showered and went to get it. That relatively early shower meant I was ready to go out and enjoy the beautiful weather today. Etienne was less fortunate, opting to stay in and recover.
In the late afternoon, I went up to the rooftop patio with a book, and despite the breeze playing havoc with my hair, I got to enjoy about an hour of sun and shallow introspection. At times I read (about a British diplomat's impressions of Libya in the 70's...yeah, who knows how to relax? This girl, right here!), at other times I just looked at the skyline around our neighbourhood and considered what to do about my Ottawa problem.
As you know if you've been following along, I'm not enjoying my time here. There have been many changes since the last time I blogged, some for the better, but nothing overall that has made me turn the corner on my relationship to this place. If you'll recall, early this year, Etienne and I were competing in a process to move to the next level, and we were both successful. He was fortunate that his current group worked out a solution to keep him on, but I had to make the big change. So on May 23rd, I said goodbye to my job and my colleagues there, I took two weeks vacation, and on June 9th, I should be starting my new job in a new branch (same department) with a team that works on issues I am eager to take on. There is already a lot of optimism about my appointment, and I hope I am up to the challenge of meeting expectations.
So, the change up in my career is a positive development that should distract me for a while, and it couldn't come at a better time, because I've recently be subjected to external reminders that when I'm unhappy, I'm such an asshole. I don't like who I'm becoming here in Ottawa. I'm tired of the cynicism and politicking, and I'm tired of seeing good people compromise their values so consistently that you start to question your own. I have heard of instances of gaslighting people's careers, throwing colleagues under the bus, and while I know this happens everywhere, I'm just mindfucked by the scale of it here. This constant feeling of frustration has made me over into a mean girl. I know myself too well. If you think I'm an asshole now, after only four years, can you imagine how bad it would get after 14 years or 24 years? Yeah. That.
All this from being on the roof, staring at the complexes of buildings in Gatineau. Next time, I need more fluffy reading material.
To big changes...
...Wish you were here.
In the late afternoon, I went up to the rooftop patio with a book, and despite the breeze playing havoc with my hair, I got to enjoy about an hour of sun and shallow introspection. At times I read (about a British diplomat's impressions of Libya in the 70's...yeah, who knows how to relax? This girl, right here!), at other times I just looked at the skyline around our neighbourhood and considered what to do about my Ottawa problem.
As you know if you've been following along, I'm not enjoying my time here. There have been many changes since the last time I blogged, some for the better, but nothing overall that has made me turn the corner on my relationship to this place. If you'll recall, early this year, Etienne and I were competing in a process to move to the next level, and we were both successful. He was fortunate that his current group worked out a solution to keep him on, but I had to make the big change. So on May 23rd, I said goodbye to my job and my colleagues there, I took two weeks vacation, and on June 9th, I should be starting my new job in a new branch (same department) with a team that works on issues I am eager to take on. There is already a lot of optimism about my appointment, and I hope I am up to the challenge of meeting expectations.
So, the change up in my career is a positive development that should distract me for a while, and it couldn't come at a better time, because I've recently be subjected to external reminders that when I'm unhappy, I'm such an asshole. I don't like who I'm becoming here in Ottawa. I'm tired of the cynicism and politicking, and I'm tired of seeing good people compromise their values so consistently that you start to question your own. I have heard of instances of gaslighting people's careers, throwing colleagues under the bus, and while I know this happens everywhere, I'm just mindfucked by the scale of it here. This constant feeling of frustration has made me over into a mean girl. I know myself too well. If you think I'm an asshole now, after only four years, can you imagine how bad it would get after 14 years or 24 years? Yeah. That.
All this from being on the roof, staring at the complexes of buildings in Gatineau. Next time, I need more fluffy reading material.
To big changes...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, March 7, 2014
March 7/14
After just an awful day at work that made me question my future, compounded by my withering despair over the so-called report and recommendations on missing and murdered Aboriginal women released today, there is just one way to sum up my life by 5 pm:
Rescue me...
...Wish you were here.
halp, pls. pic.twitter.com/mQN1StxwyG
— Emergency Kittens (@EmrgencyKittens) March 7, 2014
Rescue me...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
March 6/14
This...
Just this...
Thank you, Nick.
I wish I were there...
...Wish you were here.
Just this...
After! Congrats Nick!! #LidstromNight pic.twitter.com/m58Fx2aDke
— Detroit Red Wings (@DetroitRedWings) March 7, 2014
Thank you, Nick.
I wish I were there...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, February 17, 2014
February 17/14
It's Family Day here in Ontario, and in several other provinces around the country; last Monday, it was Family Day in BC. And no matter how you slice it, it's a provincial holiday, not a statutory holiday, so that means we had to go to work today. While everyone was out taking in the last day of Winterlude here in the Nation's Capital, I was having a busy day at the office.
Good Friday is on April 18th this year. That's 108 days after the last statutory holiday, January 1st.
In case you're counting, that's way too frigging long for most people. The daily grind, unending, in the dead of winter? Yeah, that's a winning combination for productivity.
If I seem grumpy lately, think about that.
I need a break...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
February 16/14
When the most active part of your Sunday is waking up at 7:30 in the morning to do five loads of laundry, it's a slow day. By 9 AM, I'd finished two loads of laundry, started another three, fed Purrball, eaten Breakfast number one, and done the dishes. Etienne slept. I did all of that because I didn't want to fight all day for laundry room machines--nine loads of laundry to do, and no patience for doing it. As Brent and Cassie were coming over to watch the Canada-Finland game, it meant that we also had to be up and clean before noon.
Chores suck. I need a housekeeper...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
February 15/14
Today, I've had a hell of a time getting this song out of my head. It's quite good, it's got a great hook, but the thing I enjoy most about it is that the lyrics and title are telling us a story from the perspective of someone who was in Pompeii as Mt. Vesuvius erupted and set in motion events that gave us a stunning landmark of death and destruction. It's not your typical fair for a song, and I do delight when obscure subjects are captured in a good song.
Ear worms that make you smile...
...Wish you were here.
Ear worms that make you smile...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, February 14, 2014
February 14/14
(Hi there, it's me. I actually hand wrote this last night--the 14th--but am typing it out today. Why? Because I was sangria and Florence and the Machine drunk. Looking back, I'm surprised that I was this coherent...)
When you think about it, we humans are stupid creatures; we create and socialize events like Valentine's Day to feel something in this big group. The love we share everyday with someone special is supposed to be more amplified. Why is that? Because the greeting card industry tells us it's that way? Big Chocolate? The diabolical Flower Cartel? No, but in this age of cynicism, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's that.
What makes Valentine's Day different is that it's a day set aside to remember a unique martyr. There are conflicting stories about the martyr who we would come to know as St. Valentine. The more common interpretation is that a priest disobeyed the Emperor by marrying christians, then a persecuted minority in the Roman Empire. The emperor had hoped that by outlawing rights such as marriage, he could prevent the spread of christianity. By performing marriages, Valentine was recognizing that we are all humans with emotions and connections that we want recognized in the eyes of those around us.
Legend has it that Valentine was arrested, but as the emperor was fond of him, he was indulged. It was only when he tried to convert the emperor that he was sentenced to death.
Forbidden lovers wanting society to acknowledge and the state to sanction their relationship? Sound familiar, anyone?
We live in an epoch in human history where we construct artificial barriers to the artificial institutions we created, specifically the social and state recognition of the pair-bond. Last century and earlier, it was an artificial barrier of race--two humans of different racial profiles were forbidden by law from pair-bonding. In recent years, the fight has shifted to same-sex and queer relationships.
St. Valentine was martyred because he dared to help members of a persecuted minority get married. We should remember that. That man was beaten and beheaded in the name of a state that wanted to suppress a love, a connection, a pair-bond between two people, for no good reason.
That, to me, is the reason to celebrate love today.
Happy Valentine's Day...
...Wish you were here.
When you think about it, we humans are stupid creatures; we create and socialize events like Valentine's Day to feel something in this big group. The love we share everyday with someone special is supposed to be more amplified. Why is that? Because the greeting card industry tells us it's that way? Big Chocolate? The diabolical Flower Cartel? No, but in this age of cynicism, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's that.
What makes Valentine's Day different is that it's a day set aside to remember a unique martyr. There are conflicting stories about the martyr who we would come to know as St. Valentine. The more common interpretation is that a priest disobeyed the Emperor by marrying christians, then a persecuted minority in the Roman Empire. The emperor had hoped that by outlawing rights such as marriage, he could prevent the spread of christianity. By performing marriages, Valentine was recognizing that we are all humans with emotions and connections that we want recognized in the eyes of those around us.
Legend has it that Valentine was arrested, but as the emperor was fond of him, he was indulged. It was only when he tried to convert the emperor that he was sentenced to death.
Forbidden lovers wanting society to acknowledge and the state to sanction their relationship? Sound familiar, anyone?
We live in an epoch in human history where we construct artificial barriers to the artificial institutions we created, specifically the social and state recognition of the pair-bond. Last century and earlier, it was an artificial barrier of race--two humans of different racial profiles were forbidden by law from pair-bonding. In recent years, the fight has shifted to same-sex and queer relationships.
St. Valentine was martyred because he dared to help members of a persecuted minority get married. We should remember that. That man was beaten and beheaded in the name of a state that wanted to suppress a love, a connection, a pair-bond between two people, for no good reason.
That, to me, is the reason to celebrate love today.
Happy Valentine's Day...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
February 13/14
Okay, so Etienne and I do enjoy a good commercial when we see one (the Golden Lions are becoming an annual tradition), but when we see a commercial too often or one that is flawed, we jump on it. Like this one:
In this 33 second spot, we see the boy with the balloons arrive, and the girl in the building being all giddy at the window. We see him take off his hat, and we see a ring box in his hand behind the back.
Etienne and I have speculated on what's going on here. First of all, where'd his hat go? If he's got one hand solidly on the massive cascade of balloons, and he uses the other to remove the hat, but also to hide the ring behind his back, what did he do with that stupid hat??
Second, how did she know to go to the window? Etienne speculated that he called her to go to the window, and she was all "okay!" But I know how that conversation would go, and it would not be slick at all:
Him: "Hey babe, can you do me a favour and walk to your window?"
Her: "Why?"
Him: "Can you just come to the window?"
Her: "Why? What's going on?" *grows suspicious*
Him: "There's just something I want to show you."
Her: "Well then just come up."
Him: *exasperated* "No, I can't. Can you just come to the window?"
Her: "Oh my gawd, is something happening? What is it?"
Him: "You know what? Forget it. Nevermind."
Her: "What? No! Tell me! Please?"
Him: "No."
Her: "C'mon, please? Okay, I'll come to the window."
Him: "Fine."
Why? Because when we girls get strange requests from our longtime boyfriends or girlfriends, we know something's up. So, the phone call beckoning her to the window is clearly out of the running.
We've mocked this commercial every time.
Well, at least one mystery is solved:
The answer is that the dude was probably going to stand out in the cold with those balloons until someone, anyone from her office noticed him standing there and called her over. Mission accomplished, right?
Not entirely. We still don't know what happened to that stupid hat.
Anxiously awaiting this year's Golden Lions...
...Wish you were here.
In this 33 second spot, we see the boy with the balloons arrive, and the girl in the building being all giddy at the window. We see him take off his hat, and we see a ring box in his hand behind the back.
Etienne and I have speculated on what's going on here. First of all, where'd his hat go? If he's got one hand solidly on the massive cascade of balloons, and he uses the other to remove the hat, but also to hide the ring behind his back, what did he do with that stupid hat??
Second, how did she know to go to the window? Etienne speculated that he called her to go to the window, and she was all "okay!" But I know how that conversation would go, and it would not be slick at all:
Him: "Hey babe, can you do me a favour and walk to your window?"
Her: "Why?"
Him: "Can you just come to the window?"
Her: "Why? What's going on?" *grows suspicious*
Him: "There's just something I want to show you."
Her: "Well then just come up."
Him: *exasperated* "No, I can't. Can you just come to the window?"
Her: "Oh my gawd, is something happening? What is it?"
Him: "You know what? Forget it. Nevermind."
Her: "What? No! Tell me! Please?"
Him: "No."
Her: "C'mon, please? Okay, I'll come to the window."
Him: "Fine."
Why? Because when we girls get strange requests from our longtime boyfriends or girlfriends, we know something's up. So, the phone call beckoning her to the window is clearly out of the running.
We've mocked this commercial every time.
Well, at least one mystery is solved:
The answer is that the dude was probably going to stand out in the cold with those balloons until someone, anyone from her office noticed him standing there and called her over. Mission accomplished, right?
Not entirely. We still don't know what happened to that stupid hat.
Anxiously awaiting this year's Golden Lions...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
February 12/14
It was yet another ordinary day in my world. Get up, go to work, work, run errands, go home.
But on the other side of the world, it was an extraordinary day for Canada's Olympic Team.
Earlier this week, during a cross-country sprint, a Russian skier went down in a crash. He tried to get back up to finish the race, but it was clear that one of his skis was broken. Out of nowhere, one of the Canadian coaches ran out onto the course with a ski, helped the skier into it, and sent him off to the finish line. This act of kindness alone made me proud that Canada's team is made up of people who look beyond the competition to demonstrate real olympic spirit of respect and humanity.
Well, you can just imagine how blown away I was when I heard today that Denny Morrison won a silver medal in the Speedskating 1000m event BECAUSE his friend and teammate Gilmore Junio volunteered to give up his qualifying spot to Morrison, who had missed qualifying because he fell during the qualifiers in December.
Gob. Smacked.
And not only did Junio give up his spot to Morrison, but when Morrison raced today, Junio was watching down front, cheering and beaming with pride for his teammate.
Seriously, if the Olympics gave out awards for complete and total awesomeness in the sport of humanity, Canada would have a strong lock on it.
Go Canada!
...Wish you were here.
But on the other side of the world, it was an extraordinary day for Canada's Olympic Team.
Earlier this week, during a cross-country sprint, a Russian skier went down in a crash. He tried to get back up to finish the race, but it was clear that one of his skis was broken. Out of nowhere, one of the Canadian coaches ran out onto the course with a ski, helped the skier into it, and sent him off to the finish line. This act of kindness alone made me proud that Canada's team is made up of people who look beyond the competition to demonstrate real olympic spirit of respect and humanity.
Well, you can just imagine how blown away I was when I heard today that Denny Morrison won a silver medal in the Speedskating 1000m event BECAUSE his friend and teammate Gilmore Junio volunteered to give up his qualifying spot to Morrison, who had missed qualifying because he fell during the qualifiers in December.
Gob. Smacked.
And not only did Junio give up his spot to Morrison, but when Morrison raced today, Junio was watching down front, cheering and beaming with pride for his teammate.
Seriously, if the Olympics gave out awards for complete and total awesomeness in the sport of humanity, Canada would have a strong lock on it.
Go Canada!
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
February 11/14
I'm normally an average adopter of new technologies and programs--I'm not into getting the very latest thing, but I also don't result change at all costs.
However, today, my day was pretty much buggered by technology. While I was away at French class yesterday, my computer was upgraded, and first thing this morning, I returned to work and encountered problems with my email. As my job is fairly dependent on email, it was interfering with my ability to work on urgent tasks. By lunch hour, that issue was sorted, but then my trouble with the internet started, as pages wouldn't load and suddenly favourite links stopped working. Again, interfering with my work.
We're so dependent on technology, and it occurred to me that I wouldn't last a day without some kind of advanced technological assistance, particularly at work. It makes me wonder if I will ever find the will power to step back.
The course of Windows never did run smooth...
...Wish you were here.
However, today, my day was pretty much buggered by technology. While I was away at French class yesterday, my computer was upgraded, and first thing this morning, I returned to work and encountered problems with my email. As my job is fairly dependent on email, it was interfering with my ability to work on urgent tasks. By lunch hour, that issue was sorted, but then my trouble with the internet started, as pages wouldn't load and suddenly favourite links stopped working. Again, interfering with my work.
We're so dependent on technology, and it occurred to me that I wouldn't last a day without some kind of advanced technological assistance, particularly at work. It makes me wonder if I will ever find the will power to step back.
The course of Windows never did run smooth...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, February 10, 2014
February 10/14
It's another "little things" day here in the old Daily WYWH...
It's *such* a tough life when you have to decide between some delicious Mexican food and some delicious Indian food. I mean, both are awesome, it's so hard to decide! Yes, I know, it's a perfect example of what Tweeters like to call a first world problem (#FirstWorldProblems).
We opted for Indian because we live over a decent Indian restaurant here in the Market, so the convenience factor was very high. It was the right choice based solely on the breads.
I *love* naan bread. Plain and simple Tandoori Naan that tastes like pancakes. If you have never had naan or even experienced Indian food, I suggest this as an extremely safe and simple choice. Also, the papadum, if you can get it. It's an extremely thin flatbread that is crispy and disc-shaped. Our place downstairs uses lentil flour, so it's gluten-free and Etienne gets to enjoy its crispy goodness. And I was excited to see that the restaurant has added a gluten-free roti bread to its menu, which Etienne decided to take a chance on. Turns out it was extremely tasty, so yay!
I've always felt guilty for taking a naan bread when Etienne can't, now I get to greedily scarf it down to my heart's content because he has a comparable treat. More yummy yummy pancake bread!
The little things are so important...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
February 9/14
We're living in a sports crazy period at the moment, what with the Winter Olympics, the 6 Nations Rugby cup, the Scott Tournament of Hearts, and of course, the Premier League action, but the most impactful news story in the sports world today is that a potential NFL draftee, Michael Sam, came out as gay today, just weeks before the draft.
While there is some argument that we shouldn't care so much when an athlete comes out, the fact is that the world of professional team sports is unforgiving when it comes to queer players, which is evidenced by the fact that there are so few professional team sport players who are out and active. Several have come out after they retired from professional play, but here is a young man who decided he needed to *start* his professional career with the honest truth.
Best wishes to you, Michael, I genuinely hope you experience the support of a good, strong organization.
Here's hoping the day comes soon that it will be no big deal to be a gay professional sports athlete...
...Wish you were here.
While there is some argument that we shouldn't care so much when an athlete comes out, the fact is that the world of professional team sports is unforgiving when it comes to queer players, which is evidenced by the fact that there are so few professional team sport players who are out and active. Several have come out after they retired from professional play, but here is a young man who decided he needed to *start* his professional career with the honest truth.
Best wishes to you, Michael, I genuinely hope you experience the support of a good, strong organization.
Here's hoping the day comes soon that it will be no big deal to be a gay professional sports athlete...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
February 8/14
So, I get my music through a variety of sources, so I usually don't hear an entire album unless I find something strong enough to warrant my searching for more. A few years ago, I heard 'Say (All I Need) by OneRepublic, and really, it became a significant part of my life. That song dropped in my lap at a time of great upheaval in my life, and it means a great deal to me still.
So this evening, I finally got around to looking for more OneRepublic songs on YouTube.
Turns out, I'm extremely lukewarm on the rest of the OneRepublic catalogue. If I'm totally honest, I did not see that coming. I mean, Say is such a part of my story since 2009 and even today, it can still elicit tears from me, depending on my mood. I don't mean to belabour the point, but genuinely, that song resonated to deeply with me and my innermost wishes. How can it be that something so evocative can come out of a band that I otherwise could take or leave with utter indifference?
Is this a case of "Even a broken clock is right twice a day?"
All I need...
...Wish you were here.
So this evening, I finally got around to looking for more OneRepublic songs on YouTube.
Turns out, I'm extremely lukewarm on the rest of the OneRepublic catalogue. If I'm totally honest, I did not see that coming. I mean, Say is such a part of my story since 2009 and even today, it can still elicit tears from me, depending on my mood. I don't mean to belabour the point, but genuinely, that song resonated to deeply with me and my innermost wishes. How can it be that something so evocative can come out of a band that I otherwise could take or leave with utter indifference?
Is this a case of "Even a broken clock is right twice a day?"
All I need...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, February 7, 2014
February 7/14
I know you are just dying for an update on the interviews today, but you'll have to wait a couple of weeks, for two reasons: one, the competition is still on-going and several of our friends and colleagues have yet to have their interviews, and two, oh. my. gawd. I had an experience that just defies common sense, and I need time to get over the nerves about it and move on to the 'look back and laugh' stage.
Instead, you will be treated to my thoughts on the Olympics opening ceremony!
The Fashion Parade:
The big flops were Argentina, France, the US, Italy, Israel and Canada. Argentina underwhelmed with boring, dark, straightforward colours. France...I don't know what to say to you, Lacoste. Fail. The French as supposed to be known for their fashion instincts, and instead, they kitted out their team in mismatched comfortable tan dungarees and depressing medium grey coats. Oy. The US...I believe I heard it somewhere on The Colbert Report or some comedy show, but honestly those jackets look like a cardigan fucked a quilt and the result was that coat design. Italy, I mean, come on, Giorgio Armani, are you just phoning this in? Bo-ring! Israel...your team genuinely looked like you raided your grandfather's closet and stole his leisure suits (multiple, because he finds them so comfortable, he bought a dozen so he'd always have them around). And Canada, it wasn't awful, but we've done so much better in the past, this was just not up to those standards. Honourable mention to Georgia, which had way too many flags and their country name covering every surface.
The big winners were the Austrian and Slovenian toques, the Norwegian 60s hipster-fabulous hats, the Danes boots and laces, the Czech hats (YES! FTW!), and the Russian teams coordinated pants and jackets look. Honourable mention goes to the Slovaks for putting their enormous flagbearer, Boston Bruins defenseman Zdeno Chara in a uniform covered in hearts. It was an AWWW moment.
The Show:
I liked the tributes to the arts and literature of Russia, but they totally lost me once the goofy whale made of dancers and dancing buildings came on the scene. My attention was completely gone by the time the 1917 Revolution dragged its way across the arena. After that there was a floating hammer and sickel, a brilliant Soprano singing the Olympic Anthem, and, oh hey, a Chinese Baby tricking out of a skateboard, that's adorable!
Oh, right, the show. Yeah, it ended with a racist lighting the olympic torch. Good job, Russian Federation. Because nothing reflects the Olympic spirit of human achievement better than the offcial torch being lit by someone who compares Black people to monkeys. So enlightened.
And with that, I will finish my wine and go to bed.
Happy Olympicing!
...Wish you were here.
Instead, you will be treated to my thoughts on the Olympics opening ceremony!
The Fashion Parade:
The big flops were Argentina, France, the US, Italy, Israel and Canada. Argentina underwhelmed with boring, dark, straightforward colours. France...I don't know what to say to you, Lacoste. Fail. The French as supposed to be known for their fashion instincts, and instead, they kitted out their team in mismatched comfortable tan dungarees and depressing medium grey coats. Oy. The US...I believe I heard it somewhere on The Colbert Report or some comedy show, but honestly those jackets look like a cardigan fucked a quilt and the result was that coat design. Italy, I mean, come on, Giorgio Armani, are you just phoning this in? Bo-ring! Israel...your team genuinely looked like you raided your grandfather's closet and stole his leisure suits (multiple, because he finds them so comfortable, he bought a dozen so he'd always have them around). And Canada, it wasn't awful, but we've done so much better in the past, this was just not up to those standards. Honourable mention to Georgia, which had way too many flags and their country name covering every surface.
The big winners were the Austrian and Slovenian toques, the Norwegian 60s hipster-fabulous hats, the Danes boots and laces, the Czech hats (YES! FTW!), and the Russian teams coordinated pants and jackets look. Honourable mention goes to the Slovaks for putting their enormous flagbearer, Boston Bruins defenseman Zdeno Chara in a uniform covered in hearts. It was an AWWW moment.
The Show:
I liked the tributes to the arts and literature of Russia, but they totally lost me once the goofy whale made of dancers and dancing buildings came on the scene. My attention was completely gone by the time the 1917 Revolution dragged its way across the arena. After that there was a floating hammer and sickel, a brilliant Soprano singing the Olympic Anthem, and, oh hey, a Chinese Baby tricking out of a skateboard, that's adorable!
Oh, right, the show. Yeah, it ended with a racist lighting the olympic torch. Good job, Russian Federation. Because nothing reflects the Olympic spirit of human achievement better than the offcial torch being lit by someone who compares Black people to monkeys. So enlightened.
And with that, I will finish my wine and go to bed.
Happy Olympicing!
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
February 6/14
'Twas the night before the interview, and all through the house, all the creatures were stirring, and gawd interviews suck.
Tomorrow morning, Etienne goes in at 9, I go in at 10:10.
Sorry I don't have much to say about today, but it's all interview prep. Several people have provided us with resources and coaching, but at some point, you panic because you don't know anything, you think you don't have examples, and you experience a crisis of confidence so deep, you wonder how you even managed to get the job you have now, you blithering idiot, you.
I don't worry about process questions. After four years in the public service, I know the way things (should) get done. It's those questions like "Where do you see yourself in five years" (I don't know, I don't plan what I'm doing tomorrow night, never mind 5 years away); "What areas do you think you need improvement in" (Um, all the areas? Do you want to hear what I'm good at or how much I suck?); or "Tell us about a time when you had a problem working with a colleague, what did you do?" (Honestly? I get into a yelling match with her because she refused to let me talk. Yeah, I've done that.)...those I hate. I hope we don't get any of those tomorrow.
Wish us luck...
...Wish you were here.
Tomorrow morning, Etienne goes in at 9, I go in at 10:10.
Sorry I don't have much to say about today, but it's all interview prep. Several people have provided us with resources and coaching, but at some point, you panic because you don't know anything, you think you don't have examples, and you experience a crisis of confidence so deep, you wonder how you even managed to get the job you have now, you blithering idiot, you.
I don't worry about process questions. After four years in the public service, I know the way things (should) get done. It's those questions like "Where do you see yourself in five years" (I don't know, I don't plan what I'm doing tomorrow night, never mind 5 years away); "What areas do you think you need improvement in" (Um, all the areas? Do you want to hear what I'm good at or how much I suck?); or "Tell us about a time when you had a problem working with a colleague, what did you do?" (Honestly? I get into a yelling match with her because she refused to let me talk. Yeah, I've done that.)...those I hate. I hope we don't get any of those tomorrow.
Wish us luck...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
February 5/14
A year ago today, a dear friend went under the knife. After a full year of testing, evaluation, and endless appointments, this person went into surgery, and had a kidney removed.
To donate to someone else, anonymously.
As this person reflected back on the experience of the last two years, there was a moment where it became so simple and so clear: it was the one year anniversary of a beloved mother, sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, friend, who received a kidney and got a chance to be with her kids and watch them grow.
Late last year, I got in contact with an old friend after many years; I learned this friend has a child who needs a kidney.
My friend's act was extraordinary. It takes a very special person who possesses not only the physical requirements to be a donor, but the metal fortitude and the absolute commitment to be a living donor. I encourage you to give it some thought, but I'm realistic that it's not something just anyone can or should undertake. So I encourage you to do what you can: be a donor after you've died.
Until things change in Canada, we're stuck with an informed consent system of donating organs and tissues. That means that you can sign up to be a donor with a provincial registry (or not) until the cows come home, but ultimately, the final decision to consent to your organs and tissues being donated after you've died belongs to your next of kin. So please, signal that you wish to be a donor, and have that conversation with your loved ones.
Hopefully on some far off day after you've lived a life you can be satisfied with, your passing will result in an anniversary for someone else...the day they got their life back.
Be a donor...
...Wish you were here.
To donate to someone else, anonymously.
As this person reflected back on the experience of the last two years, there was a moment where it became so simple and so clear: it was the one year anniversary of a beloved mother, sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, friend, who received a kidney and got a chance to be with her kids and watch them grow.
Late last year, I got in contact with an old friend after many years; I learned this friend has a child who needs a kidney.
My friend's act was extraordinary. It takes a very special person who possesses not only the physical requirements to be a donor, but the metal fortitude and the absolute commitment to be a living donor. I encourage you to give it some thought, but I'm realistic that it's not something just anyone can or should undertake. So I encourage you to do what you can: be a donor after you've died.
Until things change in Canada, we're stuck with an informed consent system of donating organs and tissues. That means that you can sign up to be a donor with a provincial registry (or not) until the cows come home, but ultimately, the final decision to consent to your organs and tissues being donated after you've died belongs to your next of kin. So please, signal that you wish to be a donor, and have that conversation with your loved ones.
Hopefully on some far off day after you've lived a life you can be satisfied with, your passing will result in an anniversary for someone else...the day they got their life back.
Be a donor...
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
February 4/14
WELCOME TO THE CLUB, SCOTLAND!!
Today, Scotland became the latest place in this fucked up world to approve Same Sex Marriage! Hey, England? Yeah, you. Ya hear that? I believe that's Scotland telling you to GET ON WITH IT!
Seriously, I'm not in the market for a SSM myself, as I'm in a committed relationship with an opposite sex partner, but I welcome news of any place that pulls its head out of its ass and recognizes equality of rights before the law and does away with discrimination.
It's a celebration every time a new jurisdiction does the right thing and allows SSM, and as much work has to be done to keep the momentum going, it's always one step closer than the fight for equality was before.
Get on the bandwagon, world!
To human dignity...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, February 3, 2014
February 3/14
So, who's a special little snowflake?
This girl! Right here!
Last week, I was notified that I had passed the written exam for a job competition, and that I would receive an invitation for an interview. The problem for me was that it was an insanely busy week last week, as we were hosting a workshop with representatives from across the country. So I was busy workshopping AND obsessively checking my email when I had the chance. Finally at around 2:30 on Friday, January 31st, the invitation came, with the scheduled date for February 7th.
I quickly glanced up at my calendar and panicked..."Tuesday!" I thought. That quick. Oh boy. I would have to spend my weekend cramming. Anyway, I ran downstairs to wrap things up with the workshop, and then rushed to get the required information to respond to the invitation. I sent off my RSVP, and then headed off for the weekend.
I did not study this weekend. I was tired, and quite frankly, I didn't know what to study for. I knew I was meeting with my Director on Monday to do some preparation, and I figured there was no point in looking at anything until then.
This morning, I went to my Director's office to meet with her, and once we settled in, I handed her the invitation print out. "So, this is for Friday, " she half questioned, half stated.
My head shot up from my writing pad. "What?"
Yeah, today is February 3rd.
See, the thing is, when I took my quick glance at my calendar on Friday? Yeah, it was still January. Duh. The 7th of January was a Tuesday. Well done, Me.
So much for paying attention to detail. I know I have the excuse that my mind was very occupied with the workshop and with a task on my main file, but really, that is a sad excuse. I'm supposed to be better than that.
Yup. Special little snowflake.
...Wish you were here.
This girl! Right here!
Last week, I was notified that I had passed the written exam for a job competition, and that I would receive an invitation for an interview. The problem for me was that it was an insanely busy week last week, as we were hosting a workshop with representatives from across the country. So I was busy workshopping AND obsessively checking my email when I had the chance. Finally at around 2:30 on Friday, January 31st, the invitation came, with the scheduled date for February 7th.
I quickly glanced up at my calendar and panicked..."Tuesday!" I thought. That quick. Oh boy. I would have to spend my weekend cramming. Anyway, I ran downstairs to wrap things up with the workshop, and then rushed to get the required information to respond to the invitation. I sent off my RSVP, and then headed off for the weekend.
I did not study this weekend. I was tired, and quite frankly, I didn't know what to study for. I knew I was meeting with my Director on Monday to do some preparation, and I figured there was no point in looking at anything until then.
This morning, I went to my Director's office to meet with her, and once we settled in, I handed her the invitation print out. "So, this is for Friday, " she half questioned, half stated.
My head shot up from my writing pad. "What?"
Yeah, today is February 3rd.
See, the thing is, when I took my quick glance at my calendar on Friday? Yeah, it was still January. Duh. The 7th of January was a Tuesday. Well done, Me.
So much for paying attention to detail. I know I have the excuse that my mind was very occupied with the workshop and with a task on my main file, but really, that is a sad excuse. I'm supposed to be better than that.
Yup. Special little snowflake.
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
February 2/14
I was out running errands early this afternoon when I got the news.
I belong to a car sharing program here in Ottawa, mostly to do things like go out to the suburbs where the pet stores are located. Earlier today, I went to the PetSmart in Gloucester to pick up food for Purrball, however I was disappointed to find that they had sold out of the wet food, and I would have to go out to the PetSmart in Orleans to get some. I tried to call Etienne to let him know I'd be longer than I thought, but he didn't answer. I set off for Orleans where made my purchase, and then started to head into Ottawa, but I noticed my blood sugar wobbling a bit, so I decided to make a detour to Taco Bell for some dirt cheap, fast, fake-meat, soft shell tacos. I took my order out to the car to gobble them up, and as I sat there consuming my garbage food, my phone rang. Etienne called me back.
I told him I had to run to Orleans, and that I wouldn't have enough time to stop for white wine. He was fine with that, but then he dropped the bomb.
"So, you heard the news?"
"No. What news?"
He hesitated. "The actor, Philip Seymour Hoffman? It's being reported that he died."
BOOM!
Holy fuck. I heard the news that one of the most talented actors of this generation had died while shoving a taco in my mouth. Classy, Fancy. Real Classy. Good way to remember that moment. It was early on, so all he could tell me was that it was reported that he was found dead in his apartment in New York City. My classiness continued with my immediate response..."Shut the fuck up! Are you serious?"
I don't know what to say. It's not my finest moment.
I'd like a do-over...
...Wish you were here.
I belong to a car sharing program here in Ottawa, mostly to do things like go out to the suburbs where the pet stores are located. Earlier today, I went to the PetSmart in Gloucester to pick up food for Purrball, however I was disappointed to find that they had sold out of the wet food, and I would have to go out to the PetSmart in Orleans to get some. I tried to call Etienne to let him know I'd be longer than I thought, but he didn't answer. I set off for Orleans where made my purchase, and then started to head into Ottawa, but I noticed my blood sugar wobbling a bit, so I decided to make a detour to Taco Bell for some dirt cheap, fast, fake-meat, soft shell tacos. I took my order out to the car to gobble them up, and as I sat there consuming my garbage food, my phone rang. Etienne called me back.
I told him I had to run to Orleans, and that I wouldn't have enough time to stop for white wine. He was fine with that, but then he dropped the bomb.
"So, you heard the news?"
"No. What news?"
He hesitated. "The actor, Philip Seymour Hoffman? It's being reported that he died."
BOOM!
Holy fuck. I heard the news that one of the most talented actors of this generation had died while shoving a taco in my mouth. Classy, Fancy. Real Classy. Good way to remember that moment. It was early on, so all he could tell me was that it was reported that he was found dead in his apartment in New York City. My classiness continued with my immediate response..."Shut the fuck up! Are you serious?"
I don't know what to say. It's not my finest moment.
I'd like a do-over...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
February 1/14
Gents, this may be one you want to skip. Cause it's about shopping.
Today, I headed out into the heavy snow to buy...well, no, that's not it, it's not the right place to start.
Members of the Ottawa Art Gallery enjoy several perks, one of which is the ability to rent some of the pieces. Etienne's been a member for a few years now, and we have had several pieces over the years, some of which we've purchased after three months of renting. Last night, we checked out what was on the walls in the rentals room, and I came across a darling little piece called Monkey I. It's relatively cheap, so I made the decision to come back and rent it.
So, here we are today, out in the heavy snow. I trudged to the Gallery and rented my piece. After that, I trudged to the Sir John A. for a burger that I've been craving for months now. Since we left the neighbourhood, I haven't had a chance to go back to get that burger. Once I was done, I left the pub in time to see that a bus was coming up Elgin, but that I would have no shot at catching it, so I walked up to Red Velvet, this cute little women's boutique, intending to wait out the snow until the next bus, but once there, I wandered over to the jewellery, and well...I missed the bus, but I got a great costume ring.
As penance for my bad decision, I walked towards home, but wouldn't you know it, I have to pass by all these stores and a mall to get there. Are you getting where this is going?
Yeah, I ended up at The Bay. After watching Etienne haul in these amazing deals in the last week, I admit I was jealous. I started out on my never-ending quest to find a simple black pencil skirt, and after far too much time on my own, I walked out of the women's department with two short sweaters for the price of one. Right into the women's shoe department sale. Dammit. I console myself that I turned down a darling little dress that was a third of the original price.
The thing is, I've had my eye on this last pair of lavender, patent leather heels that have been on the sale rack for a while now...marked down 50% from the already nice sale price. $110 shoes for $35? Yeah, I fell for it again.
Will power, why have you forsaken me?
...Wish you were here.
Today, I headed out into the heavy snow to buy...well, no, that's not it, it's not the right place to start.
Members of the Ottawa Art Gallery enjoy several perks, one of which is the ability to rent some of the pieces. Etienne's been a member for a few years now, and we have had several pieces over the years, some of which we've purchased after three months of renting. Last night, we checked out what was on the walls in the rentals room, and I came across a darling little piece called Monkey I. It's relatively cheap, so I made the decision to come back and rent it.
So, here we are today, out in the heavy snow. I trudged to the Gallery and rented my piece. After that, I trudged to the Sir John A. for a burger that I've been craving for months now. Since we left the neighbourhood, I haven't had a chance to go back to get that burger. Once I was done, I left the pub in time to see that a bus was coming up Elgin, but that I would have no shot at catching it, so I walked up to Red Velvet, this cute little women's boutique, intending to wait out the snow until the next bus, but once there, I wandered over to the jewellery, and well...I missed the bus, but I got a great costume ring.
As penance for my bad decision, I walked towards home, but wouldn't you know it, I have to pass by all these stores and a mall to get there. Are you getting where this is going?
Yeah, I ended up at The Bay. After watching Etienne haul in these amazing deals in the last week, I admit I was jealous. I started out on my never-ending quest to find a simple black pencil skirt, and after far too much time on my own, I walked out of the women's department with two short sweaters for the price of one. Right into the women's shoe department sale. Dammit. I console myself that I turned down a darling little dress that was a third of the original price.
The thing is, I've had my eye on this last pair of lavender, patent leather heels that have been on the sale rack for a while now...marked down 50% from the already nice sale price. $110 shoes for $35? Yeah, I fell for it again.
Will power, why have you forsaken me?
...Wish you were here.
Friday, January 31, 2014
January 31/14
Being Swiss is a point of patriotic pride for Etienne. He's so eager to share this part of his life with anyone who is interested and he goes out of his way to find Swiss-made goods and companies here in Canada. So, it should come as no surprise that he bought tickets to a Swiss event at the Ottawa Art Gallery as soon as he could.
Every year, the Gallery throws a party to celebrate the start of Winterlude here in the National Capital Region, and this year, the Gallery partnered with the Swiss Embassy and various other companies and organizations to host "Dada for Switzerland: Winterlude Party." There was Swiss wine in ample quantities, large hunks of raclette, big trays of rösti, Swiss flags and games, salutes to Dadaism (including a fantastic old, old film from Cabernet Voltaire that showed a performance art piece that we look back on as quaint), and of course, we had access to a gallery exhibit room or two. The main room was decked out in the Swiss flags, we were serenaded by a Swiss Montagne Choir, an Alpine Horn player, and a DJ from Vevey. The Swiss Ambassador, a thoroughly-bureaucratic looking fellow, dropped by to meet and greet. It was a refreshing change of scene in this rather stayed, unimaginative city.
In fact, it was a very odd collection of people...random Swiss citizens, the OAG arts supporters, club kids, bureaucrats...whatever their motivations, they were there for a good time courtesy of the Gallery. We totally need to get out and do more of this stuff.
Time to party...
...Wish you were here.
Every year, the Gallery throws a party to celebrate the start of Winterlude here in the National Capital Region, and this year, the Gallery partnered with the Swiss Embassy and various other companies and organizations to host "Dada for Switzerland: Winterlude Party." There was Swiss wine in ample quantities, large hunks of raclette, big trays of rösti, Swiss flags and games, salutes to Dadaism (including a fantastic old, old film from Cabernet Voltaire that showed a performance art piece that we look back on as quaint), and of course, we had access to a gallery exhibit room or two. The main room was decked out in the Swiss flags, we were serenaded by a Swiss Montagne Choir, an Alpine Horn player, and a DJ from Vevey. The Swiss Ambassador, a thoroughly-bureaucratic looking fellow, dropped by to meet and greet. It was a refreshing change of scene in this rather stayed, unimaginative city.
In fact, it was a very odd collection of people...random Swiss citizens, the OAG arts supporters, club kids, bureaucrats...whatever their motivations, they were there for a good time courtesy of the Gallery. We totally need to get out and do more of this stuff.
Time to party...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
January 30/14
An apology...
Sorry for the disruption folks, but there have been so many happenings in the last month and a half that I had my hands full. By way of an explanation, I need to be upfront and open up about the state of my mental health.
Quite some years ago now, I was diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Depression. I know I've discussed it in the past, and I'm always open about it. In my opinion, it's not something I have to be ashamed of, and I do my best to be open and honest about it with people, particularly in the workplace--it's true, my energy and output can be affected, but never to the extent that has been the case this year.
This winter has been one of my worst. Despite having good supports and understanding people around me, I've struggled with the depression more than I have in recent years. I felt that it was going to be a tough winter early on, but I didn't expect the frequent and lengthy periods of Arctic-inspired weather in Ottawa which compounded the feeling that I was facing a rough winter.
Earlier this month, I ended up in tears at work, and I recognized that I was close to a meltdown. I've had minor meltdowns at work before, and knowing that I am having a rough winter, I knew I had to act fast. As it was close to the end of the work day, I pulled my manager aside for a private discussion and let her know I was in a bad state, close to an outburst, and we discussed some of the issues involved. From that discussion, it was decided that I would work from home the next day. I knew I had work to do, but I also knew that being in the office in my state could be a bad thing--there are all kinds of stimulati in my workplace, and there is no telling what might trigger the outburst. I'm lucky to have a manager who recognizes and works with me to find solutions, so I spent the next day at home, working on projects that have lacked attention while I tended to more urgent responsibilities. By the time I returned to the office the following day, it was clear that I had successfully averted the meltdown.
Earlier this week, there was a day sponsored by a large national company that focused on dialogue and discussion about mental health. I won't name it specifically because I've got my beefs with that company, but I wholeheartedly support the focus. Many, many people struggle with mental health issues and disorders in silence, feeling that they have nowhere to turn and there's nothing that can be done. In making my decision all those years ago to forgo pharmaceutical therapies for my depression, I knew I would have to be open with people about it. I don't do it to receive special treatment, I do it so that I can work with people in my life to find solutions to issues the my mental health can raise. I have to be part of the solution.
You might not know that someone you care about is struggling quietly, but if you know me, hopefully the signs are a little more recognizable.
Be well...
...Wish you were here.
Sorry for the disruption folks, but there have been so many happenings in the last month and a half that I had my hands full. By way of an explanation, I need to be upfront and open up about the state of my mental health.
Quite some years ago now, I was diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Depression. I know I've discussed it in the past, and I'm always open about it. In my opinion, it's not something I have to be ashamed of, and I do my best to be open and honest about it with people, particularly in the workplace--it's true, my energy and output can be affected, but never to the extent that has been the case this year.
This winter has been one of my worst. Despite having good supports and understanding people around me, I've struggled with the depression more than I have in recent years. I felt that it was going to be a tough winter early on, but I didn't expect the frequent and lengthy periods of Arctic-inspired weather in Ottawa which compounded the feeling that I was facing a rough winter.
Earlier this month, I ended up in tears at work, and I recognized that I was close to a meltdown. I've had minor meltdowns at work before, and knowing that I am having a rough winter, I knew I had to act fast. As it was close to the end of the work day, I pulled my manager aside for a private discussion and let her know I was in a bad state, close to an outburst, and we discussed some of the issues involved. From that discussion, it was decided that I would work from home the next day. I knew I had work to do, but I also knew that being in the office in my state could be a bad thing--there are all kinds of stimulati in my workplace, and there is no telling what might trigger the outburst. I'm lucky to have a manager who recognizes and works with me to find solutions, so I spent the next day at home, working on projects that have lacked attention while I tended to more urgent responsibilities. By the time I returned to the office the following day, it was clear that I had successfully averted the meltdown.
Earlier this week, there was a day sponsored by a large national company that focused on dialogue and discussion about mental health. I won't name it specifically because I've got my beefs with that company, but I wholeheartedly support the focus. Many, many people struggle with mental health issues and disorders in silence, feeling that they have nowhere to turn and there's nothing that can be done. In making my decision all those years ago to forgo pharmaceutical therapies for my depression, I knew I would have to be open with people about it. I don't do it to receive special treatment, I do it so that I can work with people in my life to find solutions to issues the my mental health can raise. I have to be part of the solution.
You might not know that someone you care about is struggling quietly, but if you know me, hopefully the signs are a little more recognizable.
Be well...
...Wish you were here.
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