Showing posts with label negativity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label negativity. Show all posts
Of last-minute arrangements
Kate Mc
I was meant to hvae a promotion interview at work last week on Thursday at 10 a.m.

At a little after 9 a.m., I got a phone call from the coordinator saying that my interview was being postponed because one of the board members forgot some paperwork. No date was set.

This was a little bit of an issue, because the same board member goes on vacation after tomorrow for about a month. No interview before tomorrow, no shot at that raise before another month goes by.

Yesterday, I still had no date set, so informed the coordinator that I could be reached by cell outside regular work hours (the coordinator is two time zones ahead), and that I was usually in the office between 7 and 7:15 in the morning.

This morning, my cell rings at 6:55. It's the coordinator saying my interview is at 7:30.

I'm not sure how well I did... I suppose I'll find out in a few weeks when my results come in...
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Of attitude
Kate Mc
Perhaps I am a wee bit unusual.

Ok, ok, yes, I know, I _am_ unusual. But not in this sense.

Generally, when I start a new job, even if it's not what I want to be doing, I feign interest and do my best to make the most of a crap situation. Case in point, my first job with the government. Didn't really want it, but needed it for the money. Wasn't interested, and started looking for ways out even before I set foot in the door, but still made an effort and tried not to piss people off.

One of my new staff members is a whole four weeks into the job. Hell, this person hasn't even started the job as of yet - the last four weeks have been training. And already they want to get out. Employee A is making no secret of it. No problem, I can completely understand.

But holy hell does this Employee A's attitude suck. EE A sits in the back of the room with her arms crossed. EE A tries to argue with the security guy about the name that should be on their ID card. EE A refuses to respond when we say goodbye to them at the end of the day and huffs out. Snarky comments abound under their breath to the other employees.

My god. EE A's been on the job 7.5 hours, and already we're going to have to have a chat about attitude. This is ridiculous.
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Of unhappy endings
Kate Mc
30May09

On Monday, the boy and I had a conversation over MSN about how I might potentially be moving to Ottawa in the fall. He said something that really got to me. "I hope I'm not influencing your decision on this." I made some flippant reply about how that was a loaded statement, deftly avoiding the unasked question, and continued the conversation.

But it got me thinking.

He's super nice. The last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings. But you can't build a relationship on avoiding causing pain to others. We don't really talk any more. It's down to pleasantries like "how was your day?" "How's the weather?" and other such mundane things. When he said he was coming up this weekend, my first thought was not "oh, yay!" but rather just "oh". He's definitely more into the whole thing than I am. And as one of my friends said, when a guy spills his feelings to you and all you can think to say is "Thanks" and look for the door, there's definitely something wrong.

I'm not comfortable having him in my space any more. Whether it's my apartment or my personal space. I realize that most of the blame in this is probably mine, for not speaking up sooner when things were making me uncomfortable, for not pointing out that I thought things were moving too fast. But looking back (hindsight is always 20-20, right?) I realize that there were all sorts of things I should have done differently.

I should have realized that when we had the same conversation about tea back before we were dating, almost word-for-word, THREE separate times (yes, I even went back through my MSN message history in analyzing this relationship), that we would probably quickly run out of things to talk about. When we'd been dating for a whole month and he said that he "accidentally" referred to me as his girlfriend to coworkers, I should have told him that made me uncomfortable and that while I was flattered, I needed more time. I should have never let him take for granted that he could use my space here. I shouldn't have gone on a week's vacation with the guy after only seeing him for 5 months (my mother had half-jokingly told me that if we made it through the week, we might make it in the relationship - further proof that you should always listen to your mother, people!). When we had our first discussion about how I needed space, I should have just ended it there rather than trying to avoid hurting his feelings by telling him I didn't feel the same intensity of emotion for him as he did for me.

So, it was with all these things in mind that I broke up with him today. I think I made the decision on Tuesday, and the rest of the week, waiting for him to be here so I could do it in person rather than being a 21st century idiot and doing it over the phone or by MSN (god forbid).

He's taken it well - well, as well as can be expected. He said it wasn't unexpected, which is good, I guess - better that he had some preparation rather than simply throwing a bucket of ice water on him. I avoided using most of the cheesy breakup lines (although I did basically give him the it's-not-you-its-me reason, which is true - he's a great guy and I wish him all the best), and it ended with him asking if I'd still talk to him, so I'm hopeful that there may be a friendship salvageable there. Only time will tell. He asked if I had any regrets - and the answer is yes, but only because I didn't speak up sooner and let it drag out this long. I don't regret any of the time that I spent with him. We did, after all, have a great time...

In short, I'm feeling kinda shitty and like a horrible person because I've hurt him, but mostly good. It's like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can get on with my life.

In other disturbing news, my dad's skin cancer is back. They removed a huge chunk of his face a while back, but looks like they got it all. Prayers/thoughts/vibes/whatever would be greatly appreciated.

And work is stupid busy again, but I get a two-week "vacation" as I attend two training sessions - one in E-Town this week and one in Saskatoon next week.

In other news, our choir had its final conert of the season last night - it went beautifully, I think. For more info on the program you can check out the associate director's blog at Podium Speak (see his May 29 post). John had taken over the main conducting duties this year as the usual director was on sabattical. I was especially excited about the Sirett piece, as Dr. Sirett was my first ever choir director nearly 20 years ago (oh, dear god, I feel old all of a sudden - it really doesn't seem that long ago that I was a little chorister at St. George's...). The Bruckner went off wonderfully (as he seems to have written in an update today), which was the most worrisome bit...

If I do end up moving to Ottawa, I think it'll be one of the things I miss most. Although having said that, my Dad recently made a comment about how he wondered if I actually enjoyed the choir, since most of the people in it are twice my age. He's right, and I think if I stay in E-Town I might find another choir to work with - the great thing about RES, though, is that it's a huge choir and you get to do all sorts of works that require the power and volume you simply can't get from a smaller choir. I don't know if I could do it if the John's wife (who used to be my boss and who I'm now happy to call a friend) wasn't in the choir as well. I have to re-audition for the choir on Thursday this coming week, and will make it known to the usual director that I may be moving in the fall, but we'll see how it goes - even if I don't move, I don't know if I'll stay with the choir and may look for other things, especially if John's wife leaves, which she's thinking about doing. But as I said to John last night, this year has been a slice, and I've greatly enjoyed it, in spite of moments of frustration (mostly with other choir members and their lack of respect/tact... but that's another blog post for later).

I'll be off to dinner with a friend this evening, and possibly out for another friend's birthday afterwards... Looking forward to it! In spite of the slight low of today, things are looking greatly up.
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Of the last couple of weeks...
Kate Mc
So I was going to be really good and keep posting my journal entries as I wrote them, but it just didn't work out - I've left the journal at work (which, after all, is what it's about) and will continue to write as things come to me. This whole process is supposed to be about a lot of personal introspection, which is something I'm not particularly good at... but whatever.

So. Ottawa was superfun, even if I didn't get to play tourist. Lots of good people, lots of decent beer (oops, probably shouldn't have mentioned that - but don't worry, it was on our own tabs, not the government's, we're not wasting the taxpayers' money...).

Job is still going ok. I'm learning. I'm slowly doing as well. Yes, doing. Which is pretty exciting. I'm slowly gaining some responsibility. Although I'm still not 100% on top of what's going on, it's getting there. We're heading down to Calgary and Lethbridge next week to visit some of the field offices. There's going to be at least one, if not two trips to Vancouver (one may just be a fly-in, fly-out sort of thing, not even an overnight stay), at least one, if not two trips to Ottawa (one for training, one, maybe, for some conference with our department), and potentially a trip to Inuvik or Iqaluit - all before Christmas! Not that I'll get to see much, but at least I can add a few pins to my figurative online map -I've never been to Van or to any of the territories before.

Choir has started again for the year. We're doing Handel's "Solomon" Oratorio in November. More info can be found at www.richardeatonsingers.com. There are some pretty big names in Canadian music coming out to be the soloists, so it should be a great night.

I've started taking piano lessons again - apparently one of the biggest problems I'm having is just self-confidence, but what can you do? That will just take time to build, I guess.

I have yet again discovered that a guy I'm interested in is now in a relationship. And obviously not with me. Go figure (yes, for those of you who know me on facebook, this is the reason for my status currently). Probably for the best, given some of the circumstances surrounding things, but this is getting to be a pattern, and I'm not impressed. Anyone have any single male friends they can introduce me to? *sigh* Maybe it's time to resort to eharmony... Although I'd probably not even make it past the personality tests (just google "eharmony rejects" for more on how their process works - it's not exactly the most fair in the world, or check out this link: http://www.usatoday.com/life/people/2005-05-18-eharmony_x.htm). At this point I just feel more defeated than devastated, which is kind of a nice change. If you can say that feeling defeated is nice. Ah well.

I have cleaned my bathroom. It is now sparkling. It won't last, but it's nice for the moment. I should probably tackle the rest of my apartment, but I'm not sure that I will.

Went out last night for a surprise party for a friend's going-away (she's heading off for a 9-week course at the beginning of October, so we likely won't see her again until close to Christmas). Had a great dinner with great people, went out dancing a bit afterwards... and was reminded why I don't go out dancing much any more. I felt old. And I'm feeling slightly hung over this morning, which can't be right, since I only had 3 drinks over the course of the night... I'm hoping I'm not getting sick.

But, in all honesty, all the minor inconveniences aside, life has been pretty not bad lately. I found someone to go to the gym with, and when your gym membership at the building you work in is only $40/year, I have no excuse NOT to join, really. I'm hoping that feeling a little better physically will help with feeling a little better emotionally. I've been making time to hang out with friends, and there are some that I need to get in touch with and arrange things (sorry, Magnolia, I keep meaning to contact you, I'm horrible...). There are so many new beginnings right now both in my life and around me that it's almost impossible not to feel oddly optimistic.
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Of Facebook status updates that never were
Kate Mc
Ever wanted to update your facebook status to say what you were really feeling, but then decided it probably wasn't a good idea to broadcast those thoughts to the world?

Yeah, so have I.

And yet I'm going to do it anyway, 'cuz it needs to happen somewhere.

The Tudor Rose:
  • Is sick of sleeping alone
  • Does not necessarily think that your kids are cute
  • Is ridiculously happy that you're happy, but is still so jealous she could cry.
  • 's feet stink
  • Has the worst cramps she's had in a long time (apologies to any male readers)
  • 's office is a revolving door - so many people are leaving (and no wonder!)
  • is #*&^%& #)*@#$&
  • Could not care less
  • Wishes that certain of her coworkers would just stay on vacation
  • needs you to get off you bloody high horse.



Having said all that, I'm doing pretty good these days. My work life is more or less balancing my social life. I've met the guy who will be my boss in a month and a half, and he seems pretty cool. I'm going to get to set my own hours in the fall, so as long as I average out 37.5 hours/week over every 2-3 weeks, I can keep working a compressed schedule. I know how it works so I get a day off every two weeks, so w'ell see if that works. :) I only have 15 more business days left at my current place of employment! Woohoo!

And it's the type of place where they won't care if I'm 15 minutes late coming back from lunch so long as I make it up somewhere else. Magnolia, that means we can start doing lunch again in September!

I went to Taste of Edmonton twice (ok, granted, the second time was just after work today to get some Green Tea Ice cream, 'cuz I don't get to Kyoto much...).

I'm looking forward to some amazing Indian cuisine at a coworker's place tomorrow evening, hosting an event on the History of Beer down at FEP next week, and having Friday off next week to go get a massage and my hair done.

I have the last two weeks of August off. I figured I'd be doing nothing of particular importance, so I volunteered to help out with a friend's Fringe show - that'll be superfun!

It's a little under a month before I head to San Francisco for a 4-day vacation, and I get to see Radiohead while I'm there! My favouritest band ever! And then I get to do some more vacation-y sorts of things, and then I start the new job.

Things aren't perfect, but they're pretty damn good.
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Of small victories
Kate Mc
So I went to the cemetery. I was there for more than two hours. I went into the mausoleum. And it didn't really freak me out too much.

Or so I thought.

I did wake up about 3 in the morning, thoughts racing, heart beating quickly, breathing rapidly, thinking about that damn cemetery.

But it was nowhere near as bad as last year.

I was able to fall asleep again pretty quickly, and while I didn't get ask much sleep as I would have liked last night, I think I'll be able to do this.

I've asked to be the principle tour guide's backup, so I probably won't have to do the tour much more than once or twice more this summer, but it's reassuring that I can actually hold it together long enough to do it.

Even if I do have to drug myself to sleep afterwards.
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Of anniversaries
Kate Mc
So, I've gone back and looked, but I didn't blog about it.

A year ago today, I was having a bitch of a time. It was ridiculously hot outside, I wasn't sleeping properly, I was trying to balance three jobs... It was roughly a year ago (I don't have the date marked in my calendar or anything, but I know it was around the middle of July) that I got as close as I had ever been to a nervous breakdown.

I finished a cemetery tour, walked home, had a bath, went to bed... I couldn't sleep. For the umpteenth night in a row. My mind was racing, and my stress manifested itself in an intense paranoia of the mausoleum at the cemetery - it was like a malignant presence had followed me home and wouldn't let me rest. At about 2 a.m., I wrote an email to my boss and quit the cemetery tour contract. At about 4 a.m., still not able to sleep, I called in sick to work for the day. At about 8 a.m., I called my mother at work and arranged to meet her for lunch. I ended up sitting at a picnic table near Winston Churchill square munching on Taste of Edmonton Food, across from my mother, and bawling my eyes out. I made arrangements to sleep in their basement as much as possible for the next few weeks. The day after, I went and saw my doctor, who prescribed sleep aids to be taken on a short-term basis (there were 15 pills in the bottle, now, a year later, I've still got 9 left...). I slowly got better. With sleep and only trying to balance two jobs, I felt relaxed again.

My cemetery tour boss was quite understanding. I've been blessed with supervisors that are wonderful and empathetic. My supervisor at the U was the same.

Nevertheless, another summer is looming, and I have signed myself up to work cemetery tours again. I would like to say that I'm not terrified. I would like to say that I'm confident I can do this and that it won't negatively affect me. After all, I'm getting good sleep this summer (yay air conditioner!), I'm not trying to balance three jobs, I have a social life, I know that I have friends and family that are there to support me.

But that's one of the catches of having a mental illness, I suppose. Whenever I feel achy or tired, I wonder if I'm falling back into depression. Whenever I think of the cemetery and the mausoleum, my confidence takes a nosedive and I wonder if I'm really up for it. So far I'm only scheduled to be there one night, and with someone else, so we'll see how it goes. I'm trying to convince myself that I will kick this things ass and get past it. After all, the way to tackle a phobia is to face it and deal with it, right?

Either way, good vibes would be extremely welcome for me from about 7 - 8:30 on Wednesday night. And if you're interested, there's a super-awesome tour of Edmonton Cemetery (117 Street and 107 Ave) this Wednesday at 7 p.m. for only $5.
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Of weird neighbours
Kate Mc
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.
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Of boredom
Kate Mc
Ladies and gentlemen, about a year and a chunk ago, I blogged about being bored at work.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Ok, seriously now...

When you've got nothing to do at work, what do you do?
I've got no students coming to whinge or ask stupid questions *knock wood*
I've got no paperwork to file (I'm dependent on my co-workers for that, anyway) or mail out.
The phones aren't ringing *knock wood*.
I've finished the project my boss set for me.
I've answered all my email.
My desk isn't very messy at the moment, so it doesn't need to be cleaned.
I've read just about every story on the BBC news website.
I've read the Residence handbook yet AGAIN in an effort to educate myself. I may go read the manual yet AGAIN.
I have to look/sound like I'm doing something. Don't get me wrong. In a month we'll be swamped with applications and I'll be whinging about being overworked - I know that's the case. But for the moment...
What would you do? Surf the 'net? Organize your desk yet again? Help!

Thursday, January 11, 2007

You know it's a slow day at work when...

You're looking forward to telling off the guy who hasn't paid when he comes in to complain about the lock change
You're disappointed when he comes in before the locks are actually changed
Your desk has never been neater, and new organizational supplies have been ordered (what would we do without Grand and Toy, really?)
You've read the emails in your inbox twice, just to make sure you haven't missed anything.
You watch your fellow employees file - only after you fought over who got to do the filing in the first place
You water the plant you've been neglecting for the last month
You haven't had to to say "around the corner, first door on the left" yet and you're two hours into your day
You haven't taken a single payment
You don't really need that free yoga they're offering to relieve stress, but you're damn well going anyway
You sign up for a free online HTML course because it's been two years since you built a website and you're feeling a little rusty. You also complete the first week's homework.
You seriously think about signing up for the free CSS course as well
You finally say "around the corner, first door on the left" 2.25 hours into your day
The only student that's had an actual housing question isn't even from our residence
And I'm sure I will think of more shortly, but this is it for the mo.

And then, miraculously, in September, I got the new job. It promised to be a job where no one was ever bored, because there were so many clients and so much work that we'd never run out of anything to do.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, they lied. The office has been the slowest it's been in... about ... 2.5 years. We're running out of work. I'm taking an online French grammar course. And 95% of the internet is blocked by our system's firewall.

I don't handle boredom well. All I can think right now is that I PRAY my new job sends me my formal letter of offer soon and I can get out of here into a job that's slightly more sane. And maybe even get my own desk again. That'd be cool...
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Well, shit.
Kate Mc
I got a job offer.

I have no idea what to do.

It's with a department I don't really want to work for. If I don't take this, though, will I get anything better?

Professionally, it's a godsend. I mean, it's management. I may have to move somewhere else in Alberta, but from what I can see, the positions would at least be in this province - I might not have to move at all! Even if I did have to move to Calgary or something... I've lived further away before. The cost of living there isn't any more expensive than it is here, really.

They've given me until 10 a.m. our time on Wednesday to accept or decline the offer.

I don't know why this is bothering me so much.

My god. It's all fine in theory, doing something with my career I've never done before, but when it actually begins to realize itself? I'd just sort of resigned myself to being stuck at my current position a little while longer...

Dammit, I don't know what to do.
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Of pain
Kate Mc
So one of the teeth that the dentist worked on started to hurt last week. I went in to have it looked at yesterday. As a result, I am now down one wisdom tooth, up a bottle full of T3 and wishing I could eat really for real solid food again. Yup, they just took my tooth out right then and there. I was in and out of the dentist's in an hour. It was nuts. So I hurt right now (it's about time to take some more pain killers) and would KILL for some potato chips or something similarly salty and crunchy, but it will have to be iced cream instead, I'm afraid.

The first found of job offers was supposed to go out today and I haven't received anything. Ah well. It isn't the only iron in the fire...
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Of even more exhaustion
Kate Mc
You'd think that three days with a 93 year old woman wouldn't be all that taxing, wouldn't you? But no, somehow, I'm still exhausted.

The trip down to Goderich from Toronto was pretty uneventful (stayed the night in TO with a friend I haven't seen in over a year, so that was excellent). You know how they say it takes you a few days to get used to a new bed and sleep properly?

Right, so that's 2 nights in Gatineau, 1 in Toronto and 3 in Goderich. You'd think the third night in Goderich might have been ok, but no. I am SO looking forward to getting to my own bed tonight. It's going to be a late one - the flight from Calgary (yes, I'm in Calgary airport right now - whoever invented wireless internet is a god(dess)) gets me into Edmonton at about 8:35 p.m. - ie: 10:35 p.m. Eastern, the time zone I've been in the last few days.

The fun thing about the drive down to my grandma's place is that you go by the house where she lived when she was a kid (although it looks nothing like it used to) and all sorts of other places that figure prominently in my childhood. Hell, the entire town of Goderich figures prominently in my childhood - we used to spend at LEAST a week down there each summer, hanging out, visiting, etc.

First thing that happened when I got to Goderich was that my mother handed me an envelope full of genealogy and family history stuff to peruse. I spent most of the evening, and most of my downtime in general whilst there working on that. I apparently have distant relatives several times removed all over the freaking place that I don't even know about. I think it's time to rejoin Ancestry.co.uk and see about picking up where I left off when I got back from England and was too poor to keep doing family history stuff for a while there (it's not ridiculously expensive, especially not compared to the cost of hiring a private genealogical researcher to do a lot of this stuff for you, but it was something I couldn't really afford when I first got back). Among the highlights were a copy of my great-great grandfather's will (from 1915) and invoices from the funeral parlour for both his and my great-great grandmother's funerals (in 1939 and 1935, respectively).

We ended up at my grandmother's cousin's place for after-dinner tea and chatting that evening (which reminds me, I need to alter a name in my genealogy program...), and when June, the cousin in question, got wind of the fact I was working on family history again, she dragged me up the stairs of her wonderfully Victorian house (it's beautiful. Seriously. The inside (on the main floor, anyway) hasn't been much altered since Victorian times, and June has furnished it in a way that's commensurate with that). I walked away with some more info about her branch of the family, but most special was walking away with a copy of my great-great grandmother's funeral announcement from 1935. Black-bordered and everything. You look at it and it LOOKS old.

It was at this point that we returned to my grandmother's place and my mother mentioned something about remembering having had copies of funeral announcements and calling cards and such from my great grandmother's generation. My grandmother's response... "Oh, I think I threw those out". This spawned a giant search through grandma's apartment on the part of my mother (who is also into the family history stuff)... and no calling cards or funeral announcements. Conclusion - My grandmother had, in fact, thrown them out. They may be in a box of stuff at my parents' house, but it's highly unlikely.

We did, however, find a photograph. On the surface that's not that special, but those of you who've been in my place will know that I have various (copies of) old family photos (originals in my mom's possession) framed and up on my wall. My most recent aquisition (if you can call it that) was getting the Huron County Museum to send me digital images of a few in their possession - so I have printed those and just need to frame them to add to my collection. These photos are sort of special because they're by a well-known and noted photographer operating in the area in the early part of the 20th c. More about him can be found
HERE.

The photos in question from the Museum are HERE, HERE and HERE.

My mom was always sort of pissed that grandma gave those away. Well, whilst digging around for the other stuff, she found another Sallows. It's not on the website (my grandmother didn't even know she had it) but it's taken around the same time as the rest (1920ish) and shows my grandma (yes, the girl feeding the chickens), my great grandma and my great grandpa in a horse-drawn buggy. It's awesome. My mom promptly took it. She says she's giving it to me, though what exactly I'll do with it I don't know - There's this part of me that loves having the old family photos. And then there's part of me that realizes I'm not entirely able to care for them. So I've contacted a friend that works at the Provincial Archives to see if he knows about any really good digitization facilities so that I can take a copy to send to the Sallows Gallery.

Oh, yes, and my grandmother, having no sense of personal history, was almost impossible to draw out into anecdotes about her own past and her childhood. So I didn't get as much there as I'd hoped. I seriously wish that some of my other grandparents were still alive. Or that even my great grandparents were alive (my great-grandfather lived to almost 99 - he was a couple months short of 99 when he died in 1983... *sigh*).

So, yeah, in the midst of the despair there was a bit of light at least.

On the Friday, my mom and I went to the county Museum. Didn't identify ourselves. Part of the museum has a lot of rotating exhibits, and a lot of the stuff my grandmother donated (like, ok, say, the photos... and some china... and some textiles and some furniture... and a lot more) wasn't on display. The museum was founded by some random eccentric guy back in the middle of the 20th c. as a "pioneer museum". The public historian in me was appalled by his chunk of it (it's expanded and grown one hell of a lot since he gave up control and passed away) since it is a whole sort of general mishmash of stuff, but the more modern bits are much more cohesive and tell a pretty good story of the agricultural and political origins of the area.

For the afternoon, I picked up a brochure and went on a historic walking tour of part of the town for about an hour. It points out various buildings and locations of architectural and historical value, and I took tons of photos (again, you'll have to wait until at least tonight for those), including some of myself in the snazzy new hat that I bought. If I ever had all the money in the world I'd start by buying one of the Georgian houses... I'd restore it and modernize to a certain extent while still being true to the original design elements, and I'd live in it. Then I'd buy another Georgian house. I'd restore it and furnish it entirely in a Georgian manner, and it would be a museum. Preferably with some interpreters. Then I'd buy a Victorian house. And do the same thing. And then an Edwardian. And then the Craftsman that I saw on the way out today. And... and... *sigh*

It was like walking down memory lane, though. I spent all my summers in this place as a kid and I don't know when I'm going to get back. I mean, I'm super glad to be coming back to my apartment. I really need a good night's sleep. But I do miss that side of the country and wish I still got to spend time there on a more frequent basis. The problem is that if I get a job out there, I don't want it to be used as an excuse to look after my grandmother. I'd have no problem going to see her for a weekend every couple of months or so, but I don't want to have to be her caregiver. Granted, my mother's not exactly young either (she's only a year shy of 60) but I'd rather not have to look after an aged parent figure until I have to. The prospect is extremely daunting, and it absolutely saddens me to think about it.

Ok, we're supposed to start boarding in about 15 minutes, so I'll put the computer away and maybe read for the next bit - I've rambled on enough.
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Of masochism
Kate Mc
I did something today that I'm really ont sure what the hell I was thinking.

I asked my boss at The Body Shop to see if there would be a possibility that I could transfer to the other company location in the city, at a rather large mall on the west end of the city.

I was there, thinking about the money I was earning. The discounts I get on the products that I use on a daily basis. What the hell would I really do with myself on an extra day on the weekend (ok, besides clean my place, and my place really does need it, I'll admit it)? And so I wrote her a note asking if she could see about the possibility.

I'm justifying it because I'd like to buy a car in the next couple of years. And the more money I have saved up for a deposit, the better. Hell, I could even buy a used car outright. And the commute to WEM is much less nasty than the commute to where I'm located right now (bus service runs AT LEAST every 30 mins, so I wouldn't have to leave my place 1.5 hours before I need to be there - I could get it down to 1 hour, max - most trips are only 35-45 mins).

And the ultimate irony? One of my friends just got a job at a third TBS location - the difference being that this third location (at a shopping mall on the east-ish end of town) is one of the franchises in town and the owner doesn't have to worry about the company's bottom line, so long as they're making a profit. Thank god. I asked my friend to ask if they needed someone on weekends (since really, that's all I can work).

I guess, really, I'm just afraid of change. And the extra money is nice. I've been whinging incessantly about the Body Shop and really was considering changing, but now that it's hit me that in a month and a half, I'll not have it any more... I'm ridiculously emotional and sad about it.

I'll give a real weekend a go this weekend (I have Friday, Sunday, Monday, and TUESDAY off from both places of work!) and see if I go nuts. If not, I might be prepping my resume to hand into the Franchise owner (she runs all the stores that are not my store and WEM in town... either way, it's about the same distance to get to any of those from my place... much more convenient than where I am now...)...

Maybe if I take the summer off and then go back?

Dammit, I'm so confused. I'm so used to being busy I don't know what to do with myself when I'm not! I wish that these options hadn't opened up for me to just slide into the same job in another location - no learning a new system, no learning new product, just changing location... I mean... I thought I WANTED this out of my life and now that it's potentially going to be gone, it's like I'm pulling out all the stops to keep what I can of it...

Someone just smack me upside the head.




I Am Reading:
Quasi-Academically: The Life of Saint Philip Neri (Antonio Gallonio)
For Fun: Le Morte d'Arthur (Malory)
Pile of unread books on my bookshelf: way too many...
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Of parties
Kate Mc
So I tried throwing a small party this evening and had invited about 30 of my friends. I had 10 RSVPs that people were actually coming. Add to this peoples' friends and significant others, and I was expecting about 15-20 people in my apartment this evening.

I had a few last-minute cancellations. That brought my total down to about 12-17 people for the evening.

Only seven showed.

I had a great time with the people that were here. Love them to bits. But that means that about 4-5 people that were on my "Attending" list didn't show up.

And I'm...

Hurt? Pissed off? I can't quite decide which.

At least have the courtesy to tell me you can't come, even if it is just an email at the last minute. Don't just not show.

I think hurt is winning right now. I was looking forward to spending time with these people, and was anticipating seeing them tonight. Instead they've blown me off for whatever reason. Not impressed.

I Am Reading:
Quasi-Academically: The Heritage Crusade and the Spoils of History (David Lowenthal)
For Fun: Santa Claus: A Biography (Gerry Bowler)
Pile of unread books on my bookshelf: 18
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Of funerals
Kate Mc
I feel like a bit of an idiot. Today I attended a funeral. I didn't know this woman particularly well. I don't know her family. I don't know most of her friends, and only barely know the rest on a professional level. I didn't interact with her at all outside the university, with the exception of a couple of emails after I went away to England. And yet her death and the fact that I won't ever see her again are affecting me a lot, and I don't entirely understand why.

She was an absolute whirlwind. As somone pointed out today, she was like a force of nature - sometimes a tornado, sometimes a rainbow. To continue quoting from the eulogies, she knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and as long as she got it at precisely the right moment, she was pretty easy to please. And lord only knows, she's probably up there attempting to micromanage the way Saint Peter runs the gates of heaven. She drove a lot of people nuts at various times. What matters most, though, I think, is that she showed me kindness during a period in my life when I really needed it. And it is that that I will always remember. And from what I heard today, I was not the only one.

What gets me, is that it was yet another person that I know who's died of cancer. It's snatching up the best and brightest, and ripping them away from us.

Dietlind Bechthold was an amazing woman. Especially in the last fourteen months of her life, as you can see chronicled on the short website she and her loved ones mainted.

I will always remember how I finally learned her name. After continued banter about some paper or other I was handing in after a long semester of handing in paper after paper, I finally said something along the lines of "You know my name now, so what's yours?", and it started from there. She'd photocopy papers for me - but only in return for my postering half of the Tory Building... I can still bring to mind our chats about her German courses, the paper she had in storage for me from a prof that I didn't want back, the discussion with another faculty member about the colour of a third faculty member's robes (he claimed 'Crimson', we all thought pink...). She was about the only person behind that counter that didn't scare me half to death - and the only one that ever bothered to learn my name, even after 5 years of handing in papers and picking things up and asking questions.


I wish I had faith. At least then I'd believe that she wasn't gone for good and that maybe we'd get to trade witty insults again some day.


Much love to you, Dietlind.
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Of horribly obnoxious people
Kate Mc
So I had my first super-bitchy client today. I wasn't able to accept the madam's paperwork for a few very key reasons, and she was less than impressed (and yes, I use the word madam in multiple senses). She was even more unimpressed when I had to confiscate a piece of her paperwork and refused to accept my explanation. I finally had a much more senior person talk to her. She was still unimpressed. As she packed up and left my area, her purse was zipped with such venom that I wanted to reach out and smack her. I refrained, and just sat in silence, giving a 'tough shit, your own damn fault' look as she huffily turned and teetered out.

The kicker?

All this was in French. I'm fairly confident working in French. That's why they hired me. But I still don't know all the 'lingo', so to speak so there are words that escape me - especially since I don't use the French on a regular basis. Part of the reason I had someone more senior come out and explain was because I was afraid I wasn't communicating something properly. But listening to their exchange, nope, I was using the right words the right way. Big wiping of the sweat from the eyebrow.

I was able to step away and get out of the office shortly afterwards, and it was a good thing I did. The whole incident really drove home just how new I still am at this whole thing, and harped on all my professional insecurities. I was left with shaking hands and a feeling that I wasn't performing adequately. It doesn't help that the two others who were hired at the same time as me are both completely fluently bilingual. I feel ill-trained, ill-equipped, ill-informed, and ill-prepared right now.

Hopefully it will pass soon enough.

On a completely different note, my father had surgery on Wednesday. Just day, laser surgery, but surgery nonetheless. Yup. The skin cancer had made a few inroads. They think they got it all, but he'll be going for fairly frequent checkups from now on. The kicker? My mother didn't tell me until we had lunch together on Monday and she just casually happened to mention something about taking Wednesday afternoon to take my father to his surgery. I'm not sure whether I'm grateful to her that she kept me in the dark and didn't make me worry, or pissed right off that she didn't inform me of something that important a little bit sooner.

*sigh*
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Of the first week
Kate Mc
So I started the new job.

It's been a week and a day, and the only way to describe it is... badly managed, disorganized, negative, and hopefully I will be out of there soon.

I arrived on day one only to be told the person I was meant to meet wouldn't be there until at least an hour after I'd arrived. And all the managers were in Ottawa for the week, so no one had any idea what to do with me.

So for the first hour I sat on the couch in the reception area and read. And then HR came and made me fill out paperwork. And more paperwork. And then I took their respectful workplace online training course. And then I did more paperwork. And then I started scanning.

Day two I shadowed another worker. Day three I started working on callouts and that's all I've been doing since. 7.5 hours a day on the phone.

They haven't told me when I'm actually going to get formal training (I'm supposed to get a week, apparently). I don't even know who my direct supervisor is right now. The people I've been shadowing have only been there 2 or 3 months themselves. It's like a giant revolving door, with people always moving onwards or upwards. One of the people who interviewed me has only been there since January. They're short staffed, but they can't keep anyone. A guy made a joke that he doesn't bother learning anyone's names until they've been there for 6 months. He wasn't entirely joking.

People are overwhelmingly negative about their coworkers, the situation, life in general. I'm trying not to let it get to me, but it is starting to. And that's after only one week.

I've run into some people from a past life (ie: from high school) there, as well, which isn't helping the emotional/self-esteem issues. I didn't like them, they didn't like me... it's like they've all come back to haunt me.

On the bright side, one of the other people doing the same job as me started today. She's Quebecois. I've been tempted to talk to her in French so that half the other people in the office won't understand us - she seems quite nice. We talked about BOOKS, for God's sake. Dumas. French literature! I haven't seen anyone else in the office read anything more than a newspaper. Obviously I don't know what they do when they're not at work, but still...

I still have my fingers crossed that they send me out to Vancouver for training. Yeah, it's 8 hours a day in training, but my evenings will be my own...

Anywho. I am volunteering again this year at everyone's favouritest Hallowe'en event (it's my one token volunteer thing... which reminds me, that one perk of the federal government is that they give me one paid "volunteer" day each calendar year... maybe I'll take it off on the Friday of Spook... ) Looking forward to it, although I feel a bit old. They do seem to get younger each year.

First choir concert is coming up on the 4th of October, as well. Details are at www.richardeatonsingers.com, should you require and or desire them.
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Of Concerts
Kate Mc
So I went to see Great Big Sea on Thursday night. It was a fun concert - there were some opening-night glitches, and the Edmonton crowd was not necessarily as excited as I thought they should have been. All in all great music. But then, I love their style of music, with its Celtic roots and modern flair. They did a great version of The Rover that turned the usual metrics on their head and until they actually started singing I wasn't sure it was the same song I'd learned in Ireland. It's music that actually means something to me - harkening back to the Scottish roots and all that...

But this isn't really a concert review. It's more a reflection on why I don't go to concerts very often.

They're so... ephemeral. You're there for an hour or so (maybe a few hours if the openers are good), listening to great music, having fun with your friends. But then they're over and you're back to day-to-day life and it all just goes away. It's kind of depressing, really.

And for me, there's all the what-ifs... what if I'd actually gotten around to learning those instruments I always wanted to learn to play? What if I'd actually dedicated myself to the arts I chose to practice and gotten good enough to actually perform at something more than weddings? What if I'd been born in a different time or a different place? Would I have had the opportunity to do something more with music? It's all these dreams that I haven't been able to fulfill and probably won't because I'm either too scared/too lazy/too busy/any other excuse I could come up with. It's a supremely bittersweet experience - music sweeps me away - but it also reminds me of all the things that could have been...
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Of Harry Potter
Kate Mc
I'm pissed off. Quite. Below is a letter I emailed to a few of the editors at the Edmonton Journal this morning...

Good morning, Journal staff

I love getting the Journal on weekends. There is always quite a lot to read, and there’s no better way to spend a quiet morning than reading the paper and sipping coffee. This morning, however, my paper has greatly disappointed me.

As it so often is, my paper was delivered outside my apartment door, upside down. I began to skim stories as I was picking it up, and almost immediately had to throw it down again. While I won’t be melodramatic and claim that you have RUINED the final Harry Potter book for me, I was certainly less than impressed with your decision to print a spoiler on the front page of your newspaper.

I, like, many other people, value my sleep and decided to have the book delivered to my apartment. I pre-ordered from an online website for home delivery (and it’s a good thing I did – I’ve ended up being sick the last few days, and a trip to a bookstore would not be high on my priority list at the moment). It’s now 8:58 a.m. Harry Potter has been out for nearly 9 hours. I still do not have it in my hands. And while I’m a fan of the series, knowing that I will get it within the next few hours is enough – I did not need to have it in my paws at midnight.

I was, therefore, unfortunately shocked and disappointed with my door-opening, paper-fetching experience this morning. What about those individuals like me who DON’T have the book yet? How many of those casually picked up their upside-down newspapers this morning and were blasted in the face with the plot outline of a book they hadn’t read and didn’t yet want to know? Could you not have kept the spoiler even on the second page? On the first page of the second section? Anything other than glaring in my face when I perfectly innocently picked up my paper this morning. Sure, there was a little warning at the top of the article – not much good when you pick up your paper upside down, as the warning is on the top half.

So to you, staff of the Edmonton Journal, I say thank-you for taking a little joy out of the event that I’ve been anticipating with a ferocity that is probably only second to Christmas. Or at least Hallowe’en. Again, while I cannot say that you have RUINED the final instalment of the series for me, you have certainly diminished the excitement, mystery and anticipation that I’ve been holding for the last little while.

Bah. Humbug.

And I still don't have the book - I imagine it will arrive sometime this afternoon.

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Of shit happening
Kate Mc
It's gotten to the point where I can't process this internally any more, so here goes.

My dad has skin cancer.

Which, if you're going to get cancer, is the sort of type to get, really. You can usually just dig the mole-y melanoma-y thing out, and do a bit of follow-up chemical treatment stuff, and voilà! good to go. One of my former bosses went through having skin cancer in her younger years, and you'd never know it. Healthy, upbeat, fine...

Nevertheless, the 'c' word is a fucking scary one.

It's even fucking scarier when it's happening to someone you know and love. It's even scarier when, during a follow-up appointment, the doctor notices ANOTHER spot, digs it out, and sends it off for biopsy. And then he's doing a little more looking, and oh, look! there's a third spot. And it's in a place where my dad had skin grafts as a kid, making the skin, well, not entirely skin-like, complicating removal.

So, yeah. I get home, and my dad has new stitches and bandages, and we all avoid talking about it over our pleasant, picturesque family dinner, and I get in the vehicle so that my mother can drive me back to my apartment and this is the news that is casually dropped as we're backing out of the driveway, as I'm waving goodbye to my father.

We're still waiting on the results from the second biopsy, but in the meantime, I get to sit here and fucking wait again.

I thought I'd already cried about this as much as possible. I thought I'd exhausted all the tears, all the worry. I thought I'd talked it over with enough people that all my fears had been mostly allayed.

Apparently I was wrong.
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