I accepted the job offer.









Y'all are right. This is more about building a skill set than about building a specific knowledge base. This is about professional development that will last, even if I end up transferring into another field in a few years. This is about making more money, being more challenged, feeling good about what I'm doing rather than wishing the general public would go away and leave me alone.

Change is scary, right? Even if it's for the better?
Well, shit.
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.
Of pain
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...
Of photo teasers...
Well, ladies and gentlement, I've done it. I've finally uploaded all my photos. For those of you who know me on Facebook, they're pretty easily accessible there. For those of you who don't, I've got them up on my old standby - Kodak Gallery! More info below...


Ok, so this first one is the requisite tourist shot of me outside Parliament (the Peace Tower, to be specific) in Ottawa. Notice the bright, sunny gorgeousness of the day - didn't last much longer. It was a cold walk back to the hotel after dinner.



This one is the Harbour Park Inn in Goderich, Ontario. Historic building of much significance. More in the photo albums...


The livery, another building of historical significance in Goderich, Ontario...

For more of my photos, check out my profile on Facebook or visit: The Kodak Gallery
Of even more exhaustion
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.
Of exhaustion
Ladies and gentlemen, I am exhausted. And I mean that. Really freaking exhausted. I suppose that's what you get for getting up at what is the Alberta equivalent of 4:45 a.m. I mean, yeah, usually I'm up at 5:30, but that's beside the point. Really. After a week of exhausting nights working on rehearsals for the Requiem, and now this... I just about fell asleep in the taxi on the way here to the airport, where I now sit in a cheesily Canadian-Beer-themed bar, using the wireless internet (apparently my free internet from the hotel doesn't expire until tomorrow, and really, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if the signal here in the airport is shite and it literally took about 5 minutes for the post-typing page to pop up).

I have noticed a few things while in my National Capital.

1) Service here is SO much better than out in Alberta. People still have to compete for jobs here. Every single person who has served me, from the folks at the front desk in the hotel, to the waiter at the restaurant on Sunday night to the staff at the Timothy's where I got my coffee this morning to the guy here in the bar (who's kinda cute, but that's best left for when I'm not typing in a place where he can easily see my screen), to the room service delivery ladies... Fantastic, pleasant, cheerful, prompt service. It has been amazing.

2) Ottawa is about as close to Edinburgh or some other major British city as you're going to get in Canada. Everything centres around one main hill area (ie: Parliament Hill). The Byward market area reminds me of nothing so much as a streetcorner in Edinburgh or London. There are certainly enough pubs around. :) There are statues. Monuments. Buildings more than 100 years old. It is fan-freaking-tastic. I can certainly see myself relocating here and not being too horribly disappointed. Yeah, I'd miss people from out west, but... wow. This is awesome.

3) The Musée des Civilizations is still pretty fantastic. I have some photos of various aspects of it that I want to show you - for a museum that's static (ie: not living history) they certainly cover more than I remember (granted, there have probably been significant changes in the last 12-15 years and additions to the museum that I hadn't noticed when I was a kid). I got to go for about 3.5 hours today in between interviews and it was great.

4) I think I was able to sell myself in ways that employers weren't necessarily expecting. Yeah, a history degree might not be practically applicable to the real world, so I harped on my malleability and my transferrable skills. As I said to several of the interviewers, I'm a ball of clay. Feel free to poke and prod me into whatever you need. I have the basic skills to do it and no preconceived notions of how things "should" be.

I am sort of kicking myself for a few things, though.

a) Didn't think to fly in a few days early and take more time to explore and see friends and such. Getting to see H was fantastic, but there are a couple of others I would have visited here if I could.

b) My French doesn't include flirting 101. They don't teach you how to flirt with men in standard French classes. And there were some very cute francophone men at these interviews. And they all have Masters' degrees, so you know they're smart. And by tonight, I was too exhausted to think clearly enough to even TRY to flirt with the cute guy from Québec that I shared a taxi to the airport with.

c) I'm not a more gregarious person. Some of those people could just walk up to anyone and start a conversation, then there's me. None of that capacity here. I think the people in the interviews were surprised when I described myself as shy at first. If people are asking me questions and I'm forced to respond, it's not as difficult as just walking up to some random and saying hi. Ah well.

Ok, I should probably actually eat the food on the table in front of me, and read the news or something productive like that... Photos will follow early next week, hopefully some good ones of the town my grandma lives in and such as well as some Ottawa ones...
Of having a little more self esteem
Two more of the departments that I've dropped off resumes with have invited me for interviews.

That means one interview today (very shortly - need to head out)... and four tomorrow. May have time to hit the Museum of Civilization tomorrow (or at least the gift shop, which has awesome stuff). Yay!