So a few weeks ago, I got a knock on my apartment door. This is unusual, because the only time I get a knock on my apartment door is when I know someone is coming and I have already buzzed them in. Or they're trying to sell me something (even though they shouldn't be in the building in the first place). Not having buzzed anyone in, I ignored it. Shortly thereafter, another knock sounded, accompanied by a male voice calling "it's your neighbour across the hall!". Well. Curiosity now got the better of me, and I wandered over to my door, unlocked it, and cracked it open a touch, keeping my body well-planted behind the door in case he was some nut job. I poked my head around the door, eyebrow raised quizically...
"Hi, I'm your neighbour from across the hall."
"Hi". Eyebrow continued in its quizically raised position. I evaluated the guy. He's probably in his late 30s or early 40s, kinda skinny but wiry, moustache... Kinda Ned Flanders-esque, really. I kept myself mostly behind my door. My building's pretty safe, but I'd never seen this guy before, and I had no evidence that he's come from the apartment across the hall. The door was closed, he had no keys...
"Do you have any power right now?". Personally, I thought this was a pretty stupid question. I had lights on in my apartment that he can see from the hallway, and my television was on, definitely loud enough that he should have been able to hear it a bit from the hallway.
"Yup, sure do". I even opened my door a crack further so that he could see my t.v.
"And you haven't had any power outages today?"
"Not that I'm aware of. All my clocks are still set and such."
"Oh, ok." And he stood there a while longer as though he expected me to say something more.
"Sorry, can't really help you..."
"No, that's ok, thanks". At this point, he turned around and wandered back into the apartment across the hall. At least now I know the guy really is my across-the-hall neighbour.
About half an hour later, there's another knock on my door. Yes, it's neighbour guy again.
"Are you going to be around tonight?" Say what? My eyebrow must have been raised quizically again, because he continued... "I need someone to let Epcor into the building, and because the power's out, my phone isn't working."
"Your phone isn't working because your power's out?"
"Yeah, battery's dead."
The ultimate irony, of course, is that he had his cell phone out and was blabbing away to someone on the other end. Believe me. I heard him out in the hallway about 5 minutes before he actually knocked.
"Um, well, yes, but I don't see how you expect me to let them in, really."
"Well, can't they just buzz your apartment number instead of mine?"
"No, my buzzer number has nothing to do with my apartment number. It's a privacy thing."
"Oh, then what is a person's buzzer number?"
"Whatever the office assigns to them."
"Oh, right. So I could just tell your buzzer number to Epcor and they could come and buzz you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm really not comfortable giving out my buzzer number to people I don't know."
Inwardly, at this point, I was thinking "you know, most repair people have cells these days. If you'd hang yours up, save your battery, and have Epcor CALL you when they got here, you'd have no problems now, would you?"
"Oh, ok." And he stood there again, as though staring at me would make me change my mind. I slowly backed away and closed my door, while he resumed his conversation on his cell phone and walked back into his apartment.
Over the last several weeks, I've heard him quite a bit. He has a distinctive, loud voice, almost like he has no concept of an indoor voice. This is in stark contrast to the lovely eastern European couple that used to live there that were about as quiet as mice. Not that I mind, really, I can't control what people do in the hallways, and as long as I can't hear it when I'm trying to sleep (which, usually I can't...). But this does mean I have some familiarity with what his voice sounds like.
So a few nights ago, I'm asleep. I wake up at about 2:50 a.m. to the sound of this guy's voice in the hallway, obviously talking on the phone to someone, jabbering away about how he should go back to bed now, and then the conversation moves into the stairwell. Where it echoes. Right outside my apartment. Not impressed. And it continued. And continued. At 3:10, I finally got seriously pissed off, wrote a note "Next time you get a 3 a.m. phone call, I'd appreciate it if you don't take it in the stairwell RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM. Thanks.", and stuck it on his door.
Got home from work to find "Hi, didn't get a 3AM phone call, so not sure who this note is for. Thank YOU."
Granted, my handling of the situation was probably not the most diplomatic in the world, but it was 3 a.m., I hadn't slept well the previous few nights, and I was getting sick (yes, I have a cold that makes my head feel like it's a balloon just waiting to burst). Like any other single female with a modicum of brains, I did not want to get stuck in the stairwell with some weird guy that I barely knew who'd already tried to weasle my buzzer number out of me to give to God only knows who. But damn, it sure sounded like him, and as I mentioned earlier, he has a fairly distinctive voice. There's been nothing in the few nights since, but I'm still not impressed. So anyway, I wrote a note apologizing for the misunderstanding. But next time, I'm so headed into that stairwell with my cell on and 911 dialed and ready for me to hit 'send'.
Either way, it's gotten to the point where I'm not even remotely keen to run into my neighbour in the hallway, again, in stark contrast to my first year of living here when it was a PLEASURE to run into any of them. We got off on the wrong foot, I'll admit it. But I like to think that it was the right foot, even if my actions were a bit hasty.
"Hi, I'm your neighbour from across the hall."
"Hi". Eyebrow continued in its quizically raised position. I evaluated the guy. He's probably in his late 30s or early 40s, kinda skinny but wiry, moustache... Kinda Ned Flanders-esque, really. I kept myself mostly behind my door. My building's pretty safe, but I'd never seen this guy before, and I had no evidence that he's come from the apartment across the hall. The door was closed, he had no keys...
"Do you have any power right now?". Personally, I thought this was a pretty stupid question. I had lights on in my apartment that he can see from the hallway, and my television was on, definitely loud enough that he should have been able to hear it a bit from the hallway.
"Yup, sure do". I even opened my door a crack further so that he could see my t.v.
"And you haven't had any power outages today?"
"Not that I'm aware of. All my clocks are still set and such."
"Oh, ok." And he stood there a while longer as though he expected me to say something more.
"Sorry, can't really help you..."
"No, that's ok, thanks". At this point, he turned around and wandered back into the apartment across the hall. At least now I know the guy really is my across-the-hall neighbour.
About half an hour later, there's another knock on my door. Yes, it's neighbour guy again.
"Are you going to be around tonight?" Say what? My eyebrow must have been raised quizically again, because he continued... "I need someone to let Epcor into the building, and because the power's out, my phone isn't working."
"Your phone isn't working because your power's out?"
"Yeah, battery's dead."
The ultimate irony, of course, is that he had his cell phone out and was blabbing away to someone on the other end. Believe me. I heard him out in the hallway about 5 minutes before he actually knocked.
"Um, well, yes, but I don't see how you expect me to let them in, really."
"Well, can't they just buzz your apartment number instead of mine?"
"No, my buzzer number has nothing to do with my apartment number. It's a privacy thing."
"Oh, then what is a person's buzzer number?"
"Whatever the office assigns to them."
"Oh, right. So I could just tell your buzzer number to Epcor and they could come and buzz you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm really not comfortable giving out my buzzer number to people I don't know."
Inwardly, at this point, I was thinking "you know, most repair people have cells these days. If you'd hang yours up, save your battery, and have Epcor CALL you when they got here, you'd have no problems now, would you?"
"Oh, ok." And he stood there again, as though staring at me would make me change my mind. I slowly backed away and closed my door, while he resumed his conversation on his cell phone and walked back into his apartment.
Over the last several weeks, I've heard him quite a bit. He has a distinctive, loud voice, almost like he has no concept of an indoor voice. This is in stark contrast to the lovely eastern European couple that used to live there that were about as quiet as mice. Not that I mind, really, I can't control what people do in the hallways, and as long as I can't hear it when I'm trying to sleep (which, usually I can't...). But this does mean I have some familiarity with what his voice sounds like.
So a few nights ago, I'm asleep. I wake up at about 2:50 a.m. to the sound of this guy's voice in the hallway, obviously talking on the phone to someone, jabbering away about how he should go back to bed now, and then the conversation moves into the stairwell. Where it echoes. Right outside my apartment. Not impressed. And it continued. And continued. At 3:10, I finally got seriously pissed off, wrote a note "Next time you get a 3 a.m. phone call, I'd appreciate it if you don't take it in the stairwell RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM. Thanks.", and stuck it on his door.
Got home from work to find "Hi, didn't get a 3AM phone call, so not sure who this note is for. Thank YOU."
Granted, my handling of the situation was probably not the most diplomatic in the world, but it was 3 a.m., I hadn't slept well the previous few nights, and I was getting sick (yes, I have a cold that makes my head feel like it's a balloon just waiting to burst). Like any other single female with a modicum of brains, I did not want to get stuck in the stairwell with some weird guy that I barely knew who'd already tried to weasle my buzzer number out of me to give to God only knows who. But damn, it sure sounded like him, and as I mentioned earlier, he has a fairly distinctive voice. There's been nothing in the few nights since, but I'm still not impressed. So anyway, I wrote a note apologizing for the misunderstanding. But next time, I'm so headed into that stairwell with my cell on and 911 dialed and ready for me to hit 'send'.
Either way, it's gotten to the point where I'm not even remotely keen to run into my neighbour in the hallway, again, in stark contrast to my first year of living here when it was a PLEASURE to run into any of them. We got off on the wrong foot, I'll admit it. But I like to think that it was the right foot, even if my actions were a bit hasty.
So the letter of offer was finally faxed to me yesterday. I signed it, returned it, handed in a letter of resignation at my current place of employ (effective Sept 1) and there you have it.
Starting September 2, I will officially be employed by a different government department.
I called up the person I'll be reporting directly to in the new job in order to find out what exactly the had in mind for me. I was definitely expecting a learning curve, but this sounds more like it will be a learning 90-degree angle. It's straight up at rapid pace and pray to whatever god you believe in that you don't lose your grip. I'll basically be responsible for a large, specific program that rolls around once each year, and encompasses most of northern Alberta, and will have quite a bit of opportunity to hang out with and learn from tons of other staffers and employees. It's scary but super exciting all at the same time.
And in other news, France is out. Sorry, Pat! Mais tu as encore l'Allemagne!
Starting September 2, I will officially be employed by a different government department.
I called up the person I'll be reporting directly to in the new job in order to find out what exactly the had in mind for me. I was definitely expecting a learning curve, but this sounds more like it will be a learning 90-degree angle. It's straight up at rapid pace and pray to whatever god you believe in that you don't lose your grip. I'll basically be responsible for a large, specific program that rolls around once each year, and encompasses most of northern Alberta, and will have quite a bit of opportunity to hang out with and learn from tons of other staffers and employees. It's scary but super exciting all at the same time.
And in other news, France is out. Sorry, Pat! Mais tu as encore l'Allemagne!
So.
I still don't have my official letter of offer.
Having said that, they did sneak me a "sneak preview" copy via email on Thursday.
I start September 2.
And I won't have to move.
Heck, I'll barely have to move offices - it's in the same building, just a different floor.
Oddly enough, after all the worrying about moving and not knowing what the heck was up with everything, I'm slightly disappointed. I was sort of hoping for a change, an upheaval, and knowing that the possibility was there that I could have to pick up and move at a proverbial moment's notice was both a stressor and an extremely exciting prospect. I'd even sort of started scoping out places in the cities they might have sent me to. I was looking forward to catching up with people in those cities.
In the long run, though, it's WONDERFUL that I don't have to move (at least not for another year yet). My salary will be going up substantially, my cost of living only a little. I'll be able to save some more money. Buy a car or go travelling sooner. Take piano and/or voice lessons again. My office environment will be a little less structured. I might actually be able to take an hour for lunch every so often if I skip coffee breaks or stay a little later. I'm actually hoping to work something out with them so I can continue to work a compressed schedule, but we'll see how that goes.
In other news, my fantasy football team is currently sucking. But that's ok. It's my fantasy.
I really wish I was back in Europe and could just head to a pub and have a pint and watch the game. When I was there, even if I ended up sitting in the college bar at a table by myself with my schoolwork spread out in front of me, there was SUCH an atmosphere of fun, welcoming acceptance. It's pretty odd how football fans in Europe (provided you're supporting the same team) will just open their tables/arms/comeraderie to you. There was one day I went by myself to watch a friendly match between England and Jamaica in a pub in York. It was crowded (as I knew it would be), and I was prepared to stand. Instead, this lovely older gentleman from the North found an extra chair and a spot for me to sit. He continued to chat away as we waited for the game to start - wondering what his wife was out buying (she was in York for a shopping trip) and commenting on his favourite players (I learned more about Michael Owen that day than I ever needed to know). It's definitely one of my favourite memories from my time overseas.
I seriously hope that at some point I manage to get to an international competition like the Euro someday. I don't think I have any hope in hell for 2010 World Cup tix. :)
I still don't have my official letter of offer.
Having said that, they did sneak me a "sneak preview" copy via email on Thursday.
I start September 2.
And I won't have to move.
Heck, I'll barely have to move offices - it's in the same building, just a different floor.
Oddly enough, after all the worrying about moving and not knowing what the heck was up with everything, I'm slightly disappointed. I was sort of hoping for a change, an upheaval, and knowing that the possibility was there that I could have to pick up and move at a proverbial moment's notice was both a stressor and an extremely exciting prospect. I'd even sort of started scoping out places in the cities they might have sent me to. I was looking forward to catching up with people in those cities.
In the long run, though, it's WONDERFUL that I don't have to move (at least not for another year yet). My salary will be going up substantially, my cost of living only a little. I'll be able to save some more money. Buy a car or go travelling sooner. Take piano and/or voice lessons again. My office environment will be a little less structured. I might actually be able to take an hour for lunch every so often if I skip coffee breaks or stay a little later. I'm actually hoping to work something out with them so I can continue to work a compressed schedule, but we'll see how that goes.
In other news, my fantasy football team is currently sucking. But that's ok. It's my fantasy.
I really wish I was back in Europe and could just head to a pub and have a pint and watch the game. When I was there, even if I ended up sitting in the college bar at a table by myself with my schoolwork spread out in front of me, there was SUCH an atmosphere of fun, welcoming acceptance. It's pretty odd how football fans in Europe (provided you're supporting the same team) will just open their tables/arms/comeraderie to you. There was one day I went by myself to watch a friendly match between England and Jamaica in a pub in York. It was crowded (as I knew it would be), and I was prepared to stand. Instead, this lovely older gentleman from the North found an extra chair and a spot for me to sit. He continued to chat away as we waited for the game to start - wondering what his wife was out buying (she was in York for a shopping trip) and commenting on his favourite players (I learned more about Michael Owen that day than I ever needed to know). It's definitely one of my favourite memories from my time overseas.
I seriously hope that at some point I manage to get to an international competition like the Euro someday. I don't think I have any hope in hell for 2010 World Cup tix. :)
Ladies and gentlemen - approximately two years ago, the World Cup was on (see June 2006 in the archives for more on the ups and downs of watching the football and just how much that interfered with my schooling...). At that time, I wrote a guide for people who aren't bit football fans but who decide that since everyone else is doing it, they're going to watch the games too...
This time around, for Euro 2008, I fortunately have my own TV and am not, for the most part, subjected to this. Having said that, I felt it was time for a bit of a recap, with additions from friends and fellow bloggers after my post...
I. Thou shalt not invite thyself to the football, then spend the entire game whining that thou art bored. You chose to watch it. Suck it up.
II. Thou shalt not interrupt me when I'm texting my friends that _DO_ care about the football and with whom I can actually discuss the unfairness of the foul committed on/by player X and other such important matters.
III. Thou shalt not accuse the players of being shit when thou dost not fully understand the game. That privilege shall be reserved for those of us who know and understand the offside rule and what constitutes a foul and other 'obscure' trivia.
IV. Thou shalt not whine when thy favourite player gets subbed off - especially if he's only your favourite because you think he's hot.
V. Thou shalt listen to me denigrate a player one instant, then laud him to the skies the next without commenting on my lack of steadfastness.
VI. Thou shalt not interrupt me to discuss players' appearances. At least not when the ball is anywhere near a net. During stoppages in play, however, this is acceptable (hey, I'm a straight female, what do you want from me?).
VII. Thou shalt not tell me that the team that won did not deserve to win. Granted, they might have played like crap for MOST of the game, but in the end, they DID manage to score those goals. Although there has been the odd exception to this rule (such as the England-Paraguay game in the 2006 Cup).
VIII. Thou art allowed to ask questions regarding the workings of the game - the rules, why X got a free kick, etc. If, however, you have to ask the same question more than twice in a game, I reserve the right to stop answering and perhaps even make wicked fun of you for your lack of comprehension.
IX. Thou shalt not call the celebrations of all the others watching the game "silly". Maybe you feel no national pride, but I'm betting a lot of others in the room damn well do. This especially applies when you are talking about MY reaction, which was quite minimal when compared to others. You are, however, allowed to point out my potty mouth, as I'm well aware that over the course of the 90 minutes my language goes straight into the toilet and am endeavouring to remedy that problem.
X. Thou shalt not say the players are "doing nothing". I'd like to see you out there for 90 minutes, keeping the ball mostly in your opponent's end. If you must use this statement, please qualify (ie: "They're doing nothing! Their defense is totally missing!" or... "There's absolutely no offense out there!" or... "they're so not covering player X"). The players are NOT inactive.
XI. Thou shalt not whinge about the dramatics of the sport. Yes, all football players take a drama course called "Faking injuries 101" in order to make fouls look particularly deadly and convincing. It's part of the game. It just is. Deal with it.
XII. thou shalt not cry "kick it" or "hit it" at any point during the game. this merely shatters the illusion that thou hast any idea of what is going on whatsoever and reveals thou to be'est a charlatan of the highest echelons. (Contributed by Dr. D&C of http://thelostdoctor.blogspot.com/)
XIII. Thou shalt not take note of the fact that I yell at the ref. for giving too many fouls when he yellow cards my team, and then yell at the ref. for not giving enough fouls when he fails to yellow card the other team. (Contributed by Llewellyn of http://stillfalling.blogspot.com/)
XIV. Thou shalt not whinge and whine about the fact that a certain player has not been put on the field when we have already made three subs and said player isn't on the bench!!! (Contributed by my friend Bids)
XV. Thou shalt not say after watching Team X go down whille wearing your Team X shirt "oh....well ....usually i cheer for Team Y". Show some consistency. (Contributed by Bids)
XVI. Thou wilt be given a red card for breaking any of the solemn commandments. (Contributed by Genderist of http://haikuoftheid.blogspot.com/)
This time around, for Euro 2008, I fortunately have my own TV and am not, for the most part, subjected to this. Having said that, I felt it was time for a bit of a recap, with additions from friends and fellow bloggers after my post...
I. Thou shalt not invite thyself to the football, then spend the entire game whining that thou art bored. You chose to watch it. Suck it up.
II. Thou shalt not interrupt me when I'm texting my friends that _DO_ care about the football and with whom I can actually discuss the unfairness of the foul committed on/by player X and other such important matters.
III. Thou shalt not accuse the players of being shit when thou dost not fully understand the game. That privilege shall be reserved for those of us who know and understand the offside rule and what constitutes a foul and other 'obscure' trivia.
IV. Thou shalt not whine when thy favourite player gets subbed off - especially if he's only your favourite because you think he's hot.
V. Thou shalt listen to me denigrate a player one instant, then laud him to the skies the next without commenting on my lack of steadfastness.
VI. Thou shalt not interrupt me to discuss players' appearances. At least not when the ball is anywhere near a net. During stoppages in play, however, this is acceptable (hey, I'm a straight female, what do you want from me?).
VII. Thou shalt not tell me that the team that won did not deserve to win. Granted, they might have played like crap for MOST of the game, but in the end, they DID manage to score those goals. Although there has been the odd exception to this rule (such as the England-Paraguay game in the 2006 Cup).
VIII. Thou art allowed to ask questions regarding the workings of the game - the rules, why X got a free kick, etc. If, however, you have to ask the same question more than twice in a game, I reserve the right to stop answering and perhaps even make wicked fun of you for your lack of comprehension.
IX. Thou shalt not call the celebrations of all the others watching the game "silly". Maybe you feel no national pride, but I'm betting a lot of others in the room damn well do. This especially applies when you are talking about MY reaction, which was quite minimal when compared to others. You are, however, allowed to point out my potty mouth, as I'm well aware that over the course of the 90 minutes my language goes straight into the toilet and am endeavouring to remedy that problem.
X. Thou shalt not say the players are "doing nothing". I'd like to see you out there for 90 minutes, keeping the ball mostly in your opponent's end. If you must use this statement, please qualify (ie: "They're doing nothing! Their defense is totally missing!" or... "There's absolutely no offense out there!" or... "they're so not covering player X"). The players are NOT inactive.
XI. Thou shalt not whinge about the dramatics of the sport. Yes, all football players take a drama course called "Faking injuries 101" in order to make fouls look particularly deadly and convincing. It's part of the game. It just is. Deal with it.
XII. thou shalt not cry "kick it" or "hit it" at any point during the game. this merely shatters the illusion that thou hast any idea of what is going on whatsoever and reveals thou to be'est a charlatan of the highest echelons. (Contributed by Dr. D&C of http://thelostdoctor.blogspot.com/)
XIII. Thou shalt not take note of the fact that I yell at the ref. for giving too many fouls when he yellow cards my team, and then yell at the ref. for not giving enough fouls when he fails to yellow card the other team. (Contributed by Llewellyn of http://stillfalling.blogspot.com/)
XIV. Thou shalt not whinge and whine about the fact that a certain player has not been put on the field when we have already made three subs and said player isn't on the bench!!! (Contributed by my friend Bids)
XV. Thou shalt not say after watching Team X go down whille wearing your Team X shirt "oh....well ....usually i cheer for Team Y". Show some consistency. (Contributed by Bids)
XVI. Thou wilt be given a red card for breaking any of the solemn commandments. (Contributed by Genderist of http://haikuoftheid.blogspot.com/)
