Anyone got a pen I could borrow?

I’m just not one of the cool kids. Really. I’m not. Just ask the cool kids, they’ll tell you.

I’ve gotten used to this feeling at work. I tend to refer to work as a Junior High. (Not necessarily in conversation with anyone actually AT work, you understand) I don’t know how it all happened, but there is a “clique” of “cool kids” and friend, I am NOT in the clique!

Ask me how sad this makes me.

Mostly it just makes for some funny stories. I am still trying to figure out the best way to be able to share those here. For today, I’ll just tell you about how only The Cool KIds can obtain and use office supplies.

One of my co-workers is in charge of the office supplies. This makes sense. The thing is, that this co-worker is so completely controlling about the office supplies that I may as well just go buy my own stuff. Pens, sticky notes, paper clips, you know, the big ticket items, they are all under lock and key. I have gone to get staples and was handed one (yes! ONE) strip of staples. Why, THANK you, this should solve all of my paper fastening dilemmas!

About a year ago I requested a specific pen. I was told it was too expensive. (it was $2.50CDN). Okay, I thought, I’ll make due. Then, a few weeks later, I notice a steady stream of new office supplies coming in and being distributed to The Cool Kids. Hmm… look at that! The “super expensive” pen I requested is being used by the receptionist. Fancy that!

I requested a 3” binder for some items that need to be kept in a binder at my desk. It took 5 requests and 3 months before I actually GOT the binder. That I needed. For my JOB. I finally had someone else request it and it got delivered within a week.

Hmm…

Most recently, I requested a foot-rest for my desk. (Because I’m ancient apparently.) Office Supply Officer (OSO) ignored my request(s) for a few weeks. Finally I cornered spoke to OSO while other people were present. The next day, I came in and there was a (used) footrest under my desk! Yay! I emailed OSO to say thanks and OSO replied that she didn’t have any need for one so I might as well have the one that she wasn’t using in order to save money for the company. Fine with me. (I have no problem with used office supplies. I don’t need to spend tons of money on something I’m putting my feet on). Earlier this morning I had to go make supplications to get some sticky notes and noticed, positioned carefully under OSO’s desk, a brand new, fancy-schmancy foot rest. Hmm…

I think I might just start requesting crazier and crazier “office” supplies and see what happens. Any suggestions?

chocolate saves the day!

You know what is bad? Having a stupid vending machine in the work place that ONLY takes Loonies*. In a work place that has no means of obtaining Loonies. You know what is good? Going in to the coffee room and seeing, placed on top of the offending Loonies-Only vending machine, a box of real-sized** Oh Henry!*** bars! (and being told "They're Free!") You know what is better? Having this happen on a day that you have forgotten to stock your bag with all manner of snack foods which also happens to be a day that you have run completely out of Loonies.

Mmm... chocolatey peanuty caramelly goodness...

*The Canadian Dollar coin is called a "Loonie" because there is a picture of a Loon on one side. Creative nickname, huh?****
**as opposed to the Halloween "fun" sized bars
***What is the deal with this name anyway? Google?
****In order to preserve the Canadian stereotype I should have written "Creative nickname, eh?" ******
*****Are these little notes at the end getting confusing and/or annoying?

I'm resisting the stupidly strong urge to carry on the multiple asterisk sidenote endnote thing and will just add this here: When I typed the bit about the Loonie, I decided to Google "Loonie" and discovered that we only have the Loon design due to a Canada Post error! Who knew? (probably lots of Canadians.) This just confirms my unhappiness with the Canada Post Delivery policies of not necessarily delivering packages that are addressed to me but rather holding on to them for some inexplicable reason until suddenly they decide to tell me I need to claim my package now! or it will be returned! to the sender! (this has happened at least 6 times. Yay Canada Post and your super helpful "Customer" "Service" "Helpline")

How did I go from a "Yay! Free Chocolate!" post to a "Canada Post Sucks" post in such a short space? hmm. I must be just that talented. You should come back every day. And read. RE-read even. And comment.

(now i've gone from the chocolate bit to the Canada Post bit to straight up "please comment" patheticness.)(is "patheticness" a word? Probably not)(obviously this is a quality, entertaining blog. You should visit more often. Tell your friends.)

NOT what it looks like. Honest

Have you ever been eating a chocolate bar (mmm) and had a piece of the chocolate flake off and fall into your lap and maybe all the way to your chair without you noticing it and then later (much later) you realize that you’ve been sitting on the chocolate and you have a fairly unfortunate looking brown splotch on the ass of your pants?

Yeah. Me neither.

Pre-fab wear and tear

I have this whole post written about my shopping trip on Friday which is, unfortunately, on my computer at home. Since I am slacking* writing this while things are slow at work this morning, I will just jump ahead.

I needed new jeans so I braved the mall on Friday and went hunting. I was surprised to find a pair that I really like. They fit like I want them to, they were not insanely expensive and they are comfortable.

The only thing is they have these faked worn-out spots. Why? Why do that? I can not take care of my clothing perfectly well on my own. I don’t need Giant-Clothing-Seller to do it for me.

I know this isn't a new thing, in fact maybe that's what bothers me about it. Aren't we over this by now? The "whiskered" jeans (ugh) made to look like they are worn in and faded just so. The slightly frayed cuffs.

What's next? Slightly pre-worn out book jackets on new books so your book shelves look impressive? Shoes with the heels worn down slightly and a scuff mark on one toe?

What ever happened to letting the consumer purchase unsullied jeans and take them home, wear them in gradually, over time, until they fit only you?

I realize this post is one step away from some old-person rant about the way things used to be. It's just that I can SEE one of the "worn" spots on these new jeans just now and it's annoying me. If only they weren't comfortable.

*Whatever happened to the term "slacker"? It used to be so cool to call someone a slacker. Now? Nothin'. huh.

List Day: Traffic Tips

It’s Wednesday, and it feels like it should be Friday already dammit, and it’s only 10:30am (shh. work blogging. shh.) and feels like it should be 3:30pm, so, the only appropriate use of my time is obviously to make a list.

(I love lists. Don’t know why. I just do. I could make a list of the reasons I like to list things.)

Driving Tips by Lori:

1. When driving on Deerfoot Trail (main “freeway” type road in Calgary) the signs reading “100km/hr” are important. That means you are meant to go that speed. Think about it.

2. When driving on Deerfoot, the signs reading “Slower Traffic Keep Right” are important. That means that you (yes YOU) should pull over out of the left-most lane into the right-most lane because you (yes YOU) are driving 80km/hr (see Tip #1)

3. When driving (especially on a main thoroughfare), it is helpful to pay attention to the other drivers around you. You may find that checking/sending email, talking on your cell phone, reading the newspaper, applying makeup, and turning around to smack your child may interfere with your ability to pay attention.

4. When driving, if you are coming up to an area where a merge lane will deposit drivers onto the road on which you are currently traveling, it is common courtesy to move over if there is no one in the lane next to you. This is, of course, as opposed to purposely blocking the merging driver.

5. If you are the driver attempting to merge onto another road, the drivers behind you might not appreciate if you come to a dead stop. Especially if the lane you are trying to get into has NO ONCOMING TRAFFIC.

6. Most modern vehicles have come with a handy, built-in device to enable you, the driver, to communicate your intentions with the drivers around you as you navigate from lane to lane to lane to lane to lane. You might even refer to it as a Signalling device. Contact your car dealer to get more information about this.

7. If you are attempting to make a left hand turn, and there is a long line of cars behind you all waiting to make a left hand turn, please consider making this turn at a speed greater than 2 km/hr. This way, more than one vehicle will be able to get through on the turn arrow.

8. If you are making a right hand turn, consider the fact that the driver behind you might not want to stop completely while you contemplate the unique nature of the right-hand turn in a traffic environment in which the drivers sit on the left in the car and drive on the right of the road.

9. If you drive a Honda Accord, you have no reason to park diagonally across 2 parking spots. Ditto almost ANY OTHER MAKE/MODEL of vehicle. If your car is too precious to risk having another human being come close to it, keep it at home, in a glass box, surrounded by those velvet rope-chain things, with a high tech security system as intended by the manufacturer.

10. I don’t have a number 10. I just always need to have a well-rounded list. 9 items is not well rounded. Sorry.

Fully aware that i am breaking my own rule...

I was NOT going to blog about work. Honest. But, seriously, it's just so funny. It's that kind of funny where you have to laugh about it or else it becomes one of those news stories with the footage shot from a news-chopper of the building surrounded by police vehicles. You know.

I have nicknames for many of my coworkers. These nicknames are strictly inside-my-head (and sometimes in my stories to my friends)(and now on my blog)(which I promised never to do) mostly because I don't know that the co-workers would necessarily find them as humorous or as fitting as I do.

Today is one of those days where I wish I had a video camera set up. My desk looks out on a fairly open space and towards the reception area. On the wall behind the reception desk hang framed certificates for training that our service shop guys have completed. It makes sense to display these, since we are a factory authorized service facility.

Funny thing about the wall o'Awesome Achievement #1: Our receptionist, Muffin Top (if you're not sure where that nickname came from, I can explain it) felt that we needed MORE proof of our awesomeness and has started to frame and display other sorts of certificates. Certificates from "courses" that various employees have attended. I say "courses" because these are the 4-6 hour "How to (insert vague work related task here) Effectively" type courses that are "taught" in a conference room at a hotel and in which at least 25% of the time is given over to promoting whatever self-help books are sold by the company that tie in with the "course". The remainder of the time seems to be taken up with the "instructors" telling you things that you could figure out just by reading the outline on the brochure.

(by now you may have recognized that I, myself, have been sent on a couple of these "courses". Ask me how much new and useful information I learned)

The certificates for these "courses" are handed out, completely filled out at the very beginning of the course. So, basically it's a certificate of attendance. Thank you. I'll put that right next to my BA and display it proudly. Along with all the yellow "Participant" ribbons from Elementary school Track and Field day.

(I have never in my life won anything in any sort of sports/physical activity competition. I had a lot of yellow "Participant" ribbons... )

Funny thing about the wall o'Awesome Achievement #2: Muffin Top had asked our shipper, Dumbass (not his real name) to hang the frames. So, he eyeballed the placement and not a one was either a) level with its neighbor or b) straight. So, when asked about this, Dumbass said that there was no way to get them level and/or straight. Seriously.

Now, this alone is pretty funny, but here's the funnier part: The company I work for stocks and sells laser levels AND measuring equipment.

When one of my (nicknameless at the moment) coworkers mentioned the laser levels to Dumbass, his response was "It didn't help. None of the hooks are in the same place." Now, the thing is: Dumbass did not try using a level to get them, oh, I don't know, level, but of course made it sound as though he had exhausted all possible avenues in his quest for perfect frame placement. This is a fairly typical response from him. No matter what he did or didn't do, there is no way in hell he will take any responsibility for it.

So, now he's hanging more certificates and now, he's hanging pictures. Without making sure anything is level. The pictures are permanently affixed to the wall. Without making sure anything is level.

I wish I had a video camera. Seriously.

Great Moments in Auntie-dom

I love being an Auntie. I currently have 7 nieces and nephews and there are 2 more on the way. The oldest is 13 (!!!) and the youngest (currently) are 1 year old twins. I don't live close to any of them, which is sad really because I love hanging out with them. I get to do that "cool-auntie" thing and play with them but then they go home or I go home so I don't have to deal with any risidual crankiness...

Yesterday was my nephew T's birthday. He turned 5. I called to say Happy Birthday and ask him what he wanted (I know. Bad Auntie). This is a transcript of that conversation:

(My brother puts T on the phone)
T: I'm 5 now!! Who is this?
Me: It's Auntie Lori. I know you're 5, I'm calling to say Happy Birthday!
T: It's my birthday? (turns away from the phone and shouts to his family) IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: Did you not know that?
T: Yeah, I know that. I'm 5 now!
Me: Yeah, I know. So, how's school? You started Kindergarten, right?
T: (shouting)YES!!!!!!!!!

T is a "man's man" but will ALWAYS come running to give you a hug when he sees you. He'll wrestle you to the ground or pull you off the couch (very very strong child) but he loves being cuddled. He is ridiculously polite but when he gets excited, he tends to shout-talk. Loudly. He is also a farm kid through and through. He talks about farming constantly. He knows more about a lot of the equipment than I do.

Me: So, what would you like for your birthday?
T: a MONSTER TRUCK!! and FIVE CULTIVATORS!!!!
Me: oh, really? 5 cultivators?
T: YES!!
(incoherant babble)
Me: Well, I should let you go. Did you have supper already?
T: I already ate!!! We had LASAGNE!!!
Me: Oh really? I'm having lasagne too!
T: You ARE??? (turns away to shout at his family) AUNTIE LORI IS HAVING LASAGNE TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I'm guestimating the amount of exclamation marks based on his total excitement over what he was saying)

Me: Guess what I'm doing tonight?
T: What?
Me: I'm going to a hockey game later on.
T: Oh. Bye (hangs up)

Love that kid.

Overheard

I swore that I wouldn't write about work. I swore it. I think I can rationalize this one though as, even though it happened at work, it has nothing to do with work.

I frequently overhear inane and seemingly endless conversations due to the placement of my workspace. I won't get into the whole thing but this one just made me laugh so hard I had to share it. (lucky you) Also, I'm gonna spare you the verbatim transcript of the first 15 minutes of the conversation and just give you the line I like best (the subject matter of the conversation should be directly inferred from the following exerpt):

"George Foreman must be a very intelligent man. He designed an AMAZING grill!"

What kind of day are you planning?

Brief Administrative Note in an effort to hold myself accountable and/or develop some sort of self-discipline:
I started this here little blog with the thought that I would try to write something most every day. That has not happened. I want to develop the practice of writing and so, therefore, dear reader(s) (are there more than one of you? is there even one of you? oh! there you are! Hi!) I will probably be posting a lot of nonsense until I get more into the habit. Or, maybe once I get going I will be posting a lot of nonsense because maybe that's where my brain is and will be at. We'll see.

Yesterday afternoon I was at Safeway stocking up on Mini Wheats (in order to break off more of my tooth) and sandwich provisions for another week of mind numbing junior high drudgery work. While at the check out I happened to look at the small pile of goods the man behind me had placed on the counter*:
1 - 250ml carton of half & half
3 - toothbrushes
2 - razors

I started trying to figure out what was going on in his house and I ended up laughing, to myself, with him standing a foot behind me, while the check-out boy attempted to flirt with me.

(BTW: Note to Check Out Boy: I'm sure that you are probably one of the nicest, cutest boys in 10th grade, but you're just not my type. I think it's best if we see other people. You understand.)

All day, and into today, the image of that little pile of stuff keeps popping into my head and I keep trying to work it out. I wonder if anyone ever looks at what I'm buying and wonders what I'm doing. Maybe I need to re-think my purchasing habits. Maybe I over think things too much.

*Why has my brain completely blanked on the name of the "counter" where you put your stuff on one end and it gets carried to the other end as if by magic?

of course 2: look out for falling anvils

You know how you always think "Well, it can't get any worse right? It's all better after this". Well, you would be wrong (as would I for thinking that).

Wednesday morning, because my car was on the street by the service shop, I had no way to get to work. I walked down to the service shop with a key, got it checked in and was told it would probably be looked at later that day. I walked home and tried to figure out what to do. My friend Julie offered to drive me to work (Thanks Julie) and I actually felt like I was accomplishing something throughout most of the day. The service shop called and said that it looked like it was the alternator (which is what I thought) and they were going to get it into the shop that afternoon and it would be done "first thing in the morning". My friend Sunny Jim* offered me a lift home from work and the day was going okay. I figured things were looking up.

(do you sense the foreboding?)

Thursday morning, because the Service Shop Guy said it would be ready first thing in the morning, I didn't bother trying to arrange a ride to work and had told them I would be in when the car was ready. Then I waited. And waited. And maybe I waited a bit.

I called the Service Shop and couldn't get the Guy who was looking after my car. When he finally called he said it was "just the battery" so that would be "$200". I talked to my friend Sunny Jim just after that and told him what the Service Shop Guy had said. Sunny Jim said he could get me a battery for about $60 and install it himself so I called the Service Shop Guy back and left a message to not do anything.

THEN 20 minutes later the Service Shop Guy said that they had finally done the evaluation on the car and it needs an alternator. (this was the THIRD time that the SAME GUY told me that they had had a look at my car and here's what's wrong with it) He said this with a note of surprise in his voice, even though that was what he and I had originally thought. Then, SURPRISE, it was going to come to just over $500! (they said just under $400 the day before)(yikes) I told him that my friend was going to be there with the battery soon and when Service Shop Guy heard me say that my GUY friend was coming to the Service Shop, suddenly my alternator dropped about $200 in price!! Shocking!!

So THEN it took about 2 hours longer to do the work than what they said and it was too late to bother going in to work anymore.

I was a bit concerned about how things would be at work today, since I missed a whole day. I had kept them informed about what was going on but my internal dictator is telling me I shouldn't have missed work.

THEN this morning, a bunch of really unsettling stuff happened at work, but since I would really like to not end up losing my job because I wrote about work, I will be cryptic. Let's just say that people I liked don't work with me anymore and people I don't necessarily get along with as well still work here but have said interesting things about me and everything feels really shakey.

*Sunny Jim is obviously not his real name. His real name is Sneaky Pete.

of course.

You know how sometimes you wake up and just can't get moving? And, of course you have cramps and a migraine before you get going. And, you get a little shampoo in your eye so you end up doing that little "I have shampoo in my eye and dammit it hurts" dance? And then, your hair doesn't quite work? And then, while having your cereal for breakfast you break off another big chunk of your tooth that the dentist said she would fix but then she kept just having you back for appointments that had nothing to do with actually fixing the damn tooth? And then, of course, you're late heading out to work and you get cut off by some ass hat in a really big 3/4 ton truck? And, then, of course because it's the Tuesday after the long weekend it feels like Monday and it's more of a Monday than any real Monday would be? And, no matter how hard you try to get stuff done you never get to the first item on your to-do list? And you start thinking that the only thing that would make the day any worse would be if you got dumped, you know if you had a boyfriend, which you don't so of course then you start thinking about that? And then you start thinking that maybe you'll get through the day afterall so you leave at 5:30pm which is, of course, 30 minutes past the time you are supposed to work until? And then, driving home your transmitter thing so you can listen to your ipod craps out and right about then you realize that the gauges are kind of flipping up and down and then suddenly they're not working at all and the vent fan isn't really doing anything either and it's about 30 degrees Celsius and it's pretty warm and you start to realize there's something wrong with your car? And then, because you were passing it and it's close to your house you stop at a dealership that has a service shop and your car dies completely as you pull in? And it's 6:02 and they just closed? And you don't have your cell phone because the battery on IT died that morning? And you have to walk 10 blocks in the 30 degree Celsius heat with the cramps and the migraine that never went away? And you just feel like crying?

Yeah.

work/dream/work

There should be a universal rule or principle or law that states that if a person, tired from a long week of pettiness and stress at work, finds themselves dreaming that they are at work, and not only that they find themselves at work, but they find themselves trying to sort out several extremely stressful situations at work, situations which are vivid and authentic enough that the person wakes up and still is trying to mentally problem solve while said person is getting ready for work and then driving to work, then that person should not have to actually go to work the next day.

Don’t you think?

(Do I win some sort of award for the longest run-on sentence in history?)

Completely non-work-related question of the day*

When a person asks another person a question and that person answers the question precisely, promptly and correctly but somehow this answer is not good enough for the questioner so he asks it again several times and receives each time the same response worded in various ways so as to emphasize the meaning behind the words being used is it okay for the quesitonee to kick the questioner in the ass?

Just wondering.

*Fine. It's totally work related**
**Please don't tell anyone at my work that I may have written (albeit in a very round-about way) about anyone at my work here. I don't want to get dooced***.
***See how cool I am with the blog-jargon there?

just shoot me now...

This is probably one of those times when it would be good if I drank. (I'll talk about that another time if that is confusing to anyone)

I need to find a new swim suit. I have a couple of old (like 8 – 10 years old) suits that still fit, but, I kind of wonder about the structural integrity of old spandex. I wouldn’t really want to discover that it breaks down over time while wearing it.

Now, here's the thing: It should come as no surprise that I’m not the girliest girl. I'm not into clothing, nails, hair. If it's clean, not too big, not too small, covers what needs covering and is comfortable, I consider it a success clothing-wise. My hair gets "done" (i.e. little bit of mousse. Quick upside down blow-dry. Little bit of spray. Done.) in the morning and by mid-afternoon it is frequently up in a ponytail because it's bugging me. My nails are short and not covered with any sort of color.

I don’t like shopping under ideal circumstances, so imagine how much I enjoy the swim suit shopping. Ugh. There are a couple of shopping scenarios that are sure to rip away any self-esteem I have saved up and swim suit shopping is one of them. (Formal-ish clothing shopping is another. As is undergarment shopping. And “work clothing” shopping, back when I needed a separate work wardrobe. Well, really, almost any clothing shopping.)

So, I’m about to set off on a quest. I briefly looked for a swim suit the last time I ventured into a mall, but didn’t see anything I liked. I don’t have high hopes at this point. By the end of June (i.e. the beginning of summer), the stores are likely stocking parkas and long sleeved sweaters rather than summer items. I have a style in mind, which, generally will spell disaster. If I know in advance what I am looking for the shopping djinns will quickly hide all possible items.

Style, coverage, what kind of activity I might want to take part in while wearing the suit all have to be considered. I’ve been told a couple of times recently that I should wear a bikini. This advice was, of course, proffered by guys. (shocking). My response is always: “You know how some women wear a bikini and, while you admire their courage and ability to feel good about themselves, really, to be completely honest: they maybe shouldn’t be wearing a bikini in public.” I don’t say that because I think I’m overweight. I’m exactly the weight I need to be for my height. I just know that the weight (and its accompanying extra, er, area) isn’t all that evenly distributed and certain areas are better left covered. It might look okay from a certain angle if I don't breathe too much and don't really move. Call me crazy, but I don't know if that's the way I want to spend my precious summer water-vicinity time.

So, I will go. I will search. I will likely return home empty-handed and will spend the evening trying to dig the last chocolate chip out of the bag.

Wish me luck.

The following post is fictional and is not intended to reflect any real person or events*

I have a bone to pick. With no one person in particular*. Well, that’s not necessarily completely true, but for the sake of not pointing fingers and/or getting myself in trouble, let’s pretend it’s not with any one person in particular.

Here’s the thing: If you make plans with me, for any type of event or occasion, it is TOTALLY FINE with me if you need to cancel or postpone. I am fine with that and/or I will get over it.

However:

IT IS NOT OKAY TO NOT TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE TO CANCEL.

Seriously. It’s not like there are no means of communication available. You have cell phones, email, msn, land line phones, mental telepathy... I mean, there are ways and means of communication available to you. To just assume that I am not only going to catch on that you aren’t able to make it for lunch or the prom or whatever, but also that I would be fine with you just not showing up… I mean, seriously? Seriously.

Also, it is REALLY not okay to turn it around on me and make me feel guilty for being disappointed that you cancelled without telling me**. I don’t care if the police needed to take your statement and you had to wait for the paramedics to tend to the more seriously injured before transporting you to the emergency room where there was such a log jam due to the 20 car pileup you were in that you had to wait for 5 hours just to get stitches and an xray and then you had to try to find a way to get home because your wallet was in your car and your car is at the bottom of the 20 car pileup***, you STILL should be able to find 2 minutes in there to call me and say “Hey, I’m not going to be able to make it for lunch.” To tell me that I should be more understanding is just going to PISS ME OFF.

That is all.

*If you happen to be reading this and feeling a twinge of guilt right now, you should maybe make it up to someone. If you happen to be reading this and you know ME and you are feeling a twinge of guilt, you should bring me, at the very least, a grande Starbucks tomorrow.
**I realize that “cancelled without telling me” is just a euphemism for being stood up. It makes the bitter spinster girl feel better to say “cancelled without telling me” so shut up. You do NOT want me writing a rant about you and your correcting me and my euphemisms, do you?
***If you were in a 20 car pileup and needed stitches and an xray, I would, of course, be so overwhelmingly relieved that you are alright when you call. But you still should at least attempt to call.

blatherliscious

I realized recently that I email my friend more often than I actually talk to her. Is that weird? Probably. Considering how close by she is and that we live in not only the same time zone but the same city. Often during the day something funny happens and the only person I can think of telling (or the only person I can tell) about it is her, so, the emails. The constant, blabby, rambling, sometimes whiny emails.

Lucky her.

THEN, I remembered that I started a blog where I can post all these things and share them with a wider audience. Cause if there is one thing the internets need more of, it’s blather: occasionally whiny, sometimes rambling, usually pointless blather.

Following are examples of stuff I email to my friend from work* because I just feel like I have to get it out and tell someone but which now I will maybe remember to put up here instead of always emailing her and she can read it here along with all of you. (Yes. YOU.)(It IS possible that there is someone reading this)(It is too.)

-one of my customers has taken to calling me “Loriliscious”. While I was somewhat startled when this first happened, I’ve chosen to find it funny. Although, it is a bit (a lot) odd, since I’ve only seen/spoken to this customer 3 times and 2 of those times he called me “Loriliscious”. I haven’t had a nickname since … well, since my friend’s husband taught their daughters to call me “Gory”.

-2 nights ago I dreamt that I was in a small hatchback car being driven around Los Angeles by Zach Braff**. We were driving on sidewalks and down staircases into the subway system a la the remake of The Italian Job, except we were NOT in a Mini Cooper. In the dream I kept wondering where he was taking me and why we weren’t in a Mini Cooper. Eventually we decided to go to a movie. In Edmonton (I don’t live in Edmonton. I live in the much cooler, better city to the South: Calgary)(Hi friends and family in Edmonton). We drove into the waiting area for the movie, a vast space with cushy benches and natural light streaming through 20ft high windows. While we sat waiting for the movie to begin, I realized that my friend Julie was about to get married RIGHT THERE in the foyer of the movie theater! (It WAS a beautiful space). So, we found seats and enjoyed the lunch that was served as the wedding was taking place (what a good idea). (I never did see Julie, who, as far as I know is NOT getting married, in the dream.)

-I think I’m going to do the Betty’s Run (walk portion) with my friend Julie (who is not getting married) this coming Sunday. I’ve seen the signs for the run, but didn’t ever realize there was a walk portion. (There is NO way I could run 5 miles. I don't think I could run 5 miles if someone was chasing me. With a gun.)

The Run raises money for ALS research. My dad had ALS and passed away in February 2003. I have wanted to get involved with this event for a few years now and just never have. We're too late to raise donations really, but I do want to do this.

-Thinking about the Betty’s Run/Walk must have put my dad into my brain. I dreamt last night that my parents were going to stop by my place. In the dream, just my dad came. He was walking around and laughing like there was nothing wrong. In the dream I thought “Oh, so this must take place before he gets sick” which was very strange. I had such a nice time in the dream with him. It made me sad and happy at the same time when I woke up. Strange.

*Obviously, there will be things that I won’t post here, you know, about work and people I know. Things that would get me in trouble. Or get me homeless. You know.
**I don't know where the Zach Braff appearance came from. I like Scrubs and Garden State and all, but... I don't usually dream about celebrities. Other than the time I dreamt that this guy I was dating was really mad at me and was going to break up with me (which he did 2 days later btw) but I managed to convince him (in the dream) to not break up with me and suddenly he was Colin Firth. (Again, in that instance: I don't know why it was Colin Firth).

:) . ???

Have a Happy Period, my ass…

1. sharp stabbing pains in lower abdomen for a week leading up to the Happy Occasion.


2. bloating


3. complete loss of control over skin/break outs


4. uncontrollable crying with little or no provocation


5. inability to put aside the ridiculous crap one must deal with on a daily basis at work which nearly leads to a loud confrontation which would certainly have resulted in either more crying or termination of employment or both


6. pain


7. aching back


8. lower abdominal pain


9. pain


10. being uncomfortable for as long as it takes for this to end.

If I had a dollar...

... for every time someone at work has walked up, asking me "What do you know about this?" without actually showing me what "this" is, I wouldn't need to work.

... for every time a particular person I encounter on a regular basis said "There's nothing worse than..." about a different thing each time, I could go to grad school and not worry about a loan.

...

The post in which I will undoubtably come across as bitter, when really it should be read as cynical and possibly resigned

It is becoming increasingly clear to me that I need to start nurturing an affinity for cats. Many, many cats. For, you see, it is becoming equally clear to me that I am destined for spinsterhood, and, as we all know, the spinsters, they like their cats.

I think I need to look into a proper spinster wardrobe as well. What are the crazy spinsters wearing these days? Sensible shoes? I have those. Cardigans? Well, I have some but I can easily knit some more. Glasses? Check. Anything else? I probably need to find a supplier of sensible slacks with pleats in the front. And slash pockets. I will also need to learn to tuck tissues into my sleeves for ready access and possibly I should find a chain for my glasses, even though I won't technically need it, since the glasses are not just for reading.

What else will I need in order to truly make the transition from single woman in her 30’s to crazy spinster lady? I already knit, so that’s one thing out of the way. I think that cat thing will be the most problematic. (and the pleat-front slacks, but I can probably work my way around that).

What brings on this spinsterhood preparation? The usual: I just found out that a guy I had dated briefly had been, well, less than 100% truthful with me (which, deep down, I knew) and not only that, but he's getting married soon. Whereas I spend most days/evenings at home alone with my knitting and my TV. It really is a shame that I can't stand cats.

My friend (who, bless her heart wanted to go find this guy and hit him)("bless her heart", see, I'm picking up the spinster slang already)(I would have loved to see her go after him. She's about 5'2" and he's probably 6'2")

Where was I? Oh, yeah. My friend and I were joking about the fact that almost any guy who has ever taken me out on a date has soon after either gotten back together with his ex or has met the woman that he ends up marrying. (Actually, several times they met the girl while we were seeing each other. Once, the guy met the girl while we were on a date.) We were saying that I should start a dating service: Take me out to a movie and/or dinner and you will find your soul-mate. It won't be me, but you will find your soul-mate.

So, now I'm at home, alone, knitting and watching hockey and trying to work my head around the fact that I need to start collecting cats soonish if I'm going to qualify as a crazy old spinster lady. Is there some sort of committee that I need to apply to in order to be certified as a crazy old spinster lady?

80's Teen Movies

Pretty in Pink is on TV. This movie instantly takes me back to High School. (also: Some Kind of Wonderful, Sixteen Candles et al)

The thing about these movies was that they gave HOPE to the quirky, wierd, misfits. The heriones of these movies were NOT the rich girls, or the popular girls, or the really well adjusted girls. They were creative, individual, strong, but not like everyone else. They all got the guy. The guy who was Popular, Cool, Handsome, and often Rich. (well, except in Some Kind of Wonderful. In that one the GUY was wierd and creative and he almost got the Rich Popular girl but then the wierd misfit girl got the wierd misfit guy and ... never mind. Take that one off the list. No, wait. Leave it, I love that movie...)

My point (I know, shocking, I have a point) is this: In real life, the quirky, creative, wierd misfit girl does NOT get the cool, handsome popular guy. Or, maybe they do and I'm just a little beat up emotionally today and Pretty in Pink on TV makes me think that it isn't fair because I wanted to make my own clothes and have the cool popular rich guy fall in love with me and I wanted a friend like Ducky who would sing to me and care about me and pine away over me.

Sigh.