Author: Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

Not feeling well

My innards are being quite rude to me, but that probably has something to do with all the arrowroot biscuits I ate over the last two days.  I’m also super tired.  I walked to the dentist, where I THOUGHT I was going to get my teeth cleaned and didn’t because their appointment booking software sucks. Instead I got shot full of xrays and told to come back in July.  Gee, thanks.

I bought food (I finally remembered to bring the wooden shopping bag handles) and walked, rather slowly, back and now I just feel really really tired. On the way a woman went by me YELLING AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS HOW JESUS ALL SHE WANTED WAS A GODDAM DRINK AND A GODDAM BITE TO EAT.  Well now if you’re in the middle of a psychotic episode (signs definitely pointing that way…) you might have a little trouble getting seated at the café.

And I have to mow the lawn, although I am going to wait until it is just barely light enough out and do it then.  I should probably do some weed whacking too but I’ll see what happens to my energy level.  I am having some other symptoms too which I am too kind to worry you all with, but it’s all consistent with early onset dementia, so that’s very jolly making.  Losing my ability to think and talk!  It’s what I was put on earth for.

I tried to nap and a friend phoned just as I was falling asleep.  Friend, shaky fisty!

 

We are going to have unchurch on Sunday and I can hardly wait.  It will be very different than what I am used to.  I decided to bail on Sasamat camp; without campfires, wacky tabacky and beer, plus at least the possibility of illicit sex and a musical jam, it all seems rather pointless; I don’t imagine most people really frame church camps in those terms, though. They always have a no talent night but it’s all so dreadfully earnest, and the older I get the clearer I am in my own mind about what I really think is fun as opposed to what the prescribed forms of fun are.

Lexi, bless her, fed me a super easy but tasty meal (cannellini beans and grape tomatoes with herbs and garlic baked under half a dozen or so fresh chicken thighs) and got me to the point where I can consistently do a single crochet.  It was lovely to see her, Darwin, and Rob.  Darwin is a mischievous lad but he really is good at keeping himself entertained, especially when all he got for his birthday was Lego.  You know, the really complicated ones meant for kids two years older than him and up.

 

People are still asking me how the cafe is going.  I wonder how many times I will have to patiently tell them that I’d rather talk about something else, like how fucking stupid they are.

 

Racism

My inner racist got taken for a thorough run this morning, when I received a barely literate and yet pun-enlivened email from the Taxi company subsequent to my angry complaint.

I can’t repeat it because that would be racist.  (Oh look, a really bad pun, which ties into the race of the person writing it, of which the person writing it is COMPLETELY unaware).  But the temptation to be a smart ass and recount the whole epistolary extravaganza is almost killing me.  I sent it to someone who won’t judge me, just so we can both appreciate it.  The thing about racism is that you think you’re doing a good job of fighting it and you turn out to be kidding yourself.  Again.  I’ll have to meditate on this one a good long while.

Lovely time in Victoria, I return refreshed and ready to attack the job market again.

I don’t think my dad is ever going to ask what is bothering me again though… although I’m thrilled to recount that he has now heard Lemming’s Twofer.

 

 

 

In Victoria

But first, a picture of a bear.  Sick moves, brah.

It’s a little overcast here in Victoria this morning but we know that it’s quite temporary.  Soon the sun will be out and it will be quite pleasant.

There is much going on beneath the surface.  We shall see what comes up from the depths in the next few weeks. A great discontent is in me.

The view from the sunroom in Victoria is even more magnificent than normal.  White wisteria is 10 metres up a Douglas fir overhanging the yard; the new paving stones and plant shelving is very handsome.  The deck has been completely redone and as a consequence no longer feels rickety, which is always a good thing.

The Anas hummingbirds have been putting on quite a show for us, zooming around and making quite unnatural noises.  Right now there’s a nuthatch hanging upside down at the suet feeder.

Katie and I are heading back tomorrow and I’m just so grateful, so very grateful, that I have two intelligent and kindly parents to go and visit.  So many people have none, or the ones they have are neither intelligent nor kindly.

I am looking forward to seeing Lexi tomorrow for a crochet lesson. I found my contact with the meetup folks who tat, etc., to be most unsatisfactory (and expensive, in a number of different ways).

amusing anecdote

I heard a delightful story from Rob W this week during which he recounted how he chose to wear a kilt to a knee exam (the practical sort, obviously). Later that day he attended a Religious Education meeting (during which people apparently said nice things about me…  which was pleasant to learn) and found to his amusement that he was the only one there wearing a skirt.  Smashing the patriarchy can be a subtle proposition sometimes.

 

Chuck Wendig on Men’s Rights Activists… “a great deal of misspellings and dogshit grammar and the reading comprehension of an aging, mule-kicked spider monkey.”

 

bwa ha ha

hullo, goodbye

They got me a YODA GOING AWAY CARD.  They really got me.  It’s so frickin sad, but somehow so awesome too.

There was a bagpiper on the Fraser right next to the office.

Jeff loaned me MR2, so I had a good ride in and will get home to BEER quickly.

 

Everybody be good and play nice!

Shhh, thinking.

Cognitive Bias illustrations.

How big is the solar system???

Came home from work yesterday, almost crying on the bus, overwhelmed by feelings of failure.  I should just suck it up.  I was looking at all of the other workers.  I’m one of about three white women on the bus.  Daily on the ride home I see exhausted men of every background in conspicuity vests, students and travellers coming back from the airport; drawn looking women from all over Asia speaking a dozen different languages as they (from the sounds of it) talk to their sisters or argue with their kids or check in with their husbands.  Most people play on their phones or listen to music.  I jerk back and forth, back and forth, my spine sliding first this way and that, and get off the bus sometimes barely able to step down, my back hurts so much.

Today I’ll be alone downstairs; the boss is working from home and if the phones decide to explode (the way you do when you can’t afford to spend a single minute on the phone) I’ll be hard pressed.  At least there’s leftover takeout in the fridge. And a stellar bunch of coworkers; they are darling and intelligent and it’s really been a privilege.  And that’s a factor in what makes me a leedle weepy, too.

I’m in town for the weekend (I’d better be, I’m doing coffee at church on Sunday) and then I’ll be off to Victoria with Katie as walk ons the first of the week.

Nothing feels right.  George calls to me, pats me with his social tentacle, and I’m too tired to focus to write; all I can do is BLORT this out in a parody of creativity.

 

 

Failure is always an option

I am wishing that this week was over.  My coworkers really like me and are talking about a special healthy foods going away afternoon tea on Friday.  Why?  Honestly, the most pleasant and hardworking and intelligent women I’ve worked with in ages (at least since Patricia and I quit hanging at the big X), and I can’t deal with the blessed commute because I’m such a little flower.  I had a seat this morning and it was still absolutely ghastly, got off the bus aching and stiff.

I made oven roasted potatoes for Jeff this morning.  I was supposed to do it last night and couldn’t get my shit together after I got home from work.  Met up with Katie last night and we hung very briefly.  I am hoping to get a copy of the ultrasound soon.  She and Suzanne both think it’s a boy.

I have so many thotz in my head…..

Unremarkable remarks

I went to the memorial service of Shirley, the caretaker for SOAP hall, yesterday, and it was a remarkable service in many ways.

I have never been to a memorial service where someone’s contributions to society as a worker have been made so much of.  Yet there was no mention made of class.  I have never been to a memorial service which completely left Jebus out of it, and yet yielded to sentimental comments about meeting again in heaven. Bagpipes attended, with Amazing Grace.  Local dignitaries attended her funeral – the acting Mayor of New Westminster, among others.  The Hall she lived in and worked at for almost 20 years hosted and fed her mourners for free; I learned that Steve Shearer wrote a song inspired by the hall and a conversation with Shirley called “The Old Folks Memorial Hall”, which I won’t comment on because of a certain little animated bunny.

I thank Sue, who is among the best and most adroit of women, for giving me a lift.

I am sorry Shirley has left this world.  Her friends and family are a good bunch of folks.

Now to see about heading back to the hall for church this morning after – I hope – the chance to get Jeff out for breakfast.

6 more days

Spamalot was absolutely wonderful, and Marylke a delight as a companion for the theatre.  She’d never seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail so she came new to all the wonderful gags. Then I came home and saw something that you will see too if you google Morgan Freeman Helium.  B’lieve me, it’s worth it.

I’m underslept and it’s a crappy day out there, but I have one week and one more day of work and it’s starting out a good day here in dried fruit and pasteurized nut land.

Rounding up

Marylke’s taking me to Spamalot tonight!  Woot!

The slow leaking death of the commentariat. Metafilter founder has some comments.

I won’t believe it until the cat is sleeping on the results.  Washerless clean clothes.

Wanna know the current position of the ISS?

According to the Ubisoft What’s Your Hacker Name meme going ’round the internet, my pOp’s hacker name is M4ster Zero, and mind is Sh4dow Root.

Jeff loaned me the car yestterday, and I feel much better today!

The tiramisu I bought from Balkan House Restaurant yesterday was freezer burned, then thawed and left at a nasty temperature, and then re-refrigerated.  It took about 45 minutes for the taste to get out of my mouth but I guess it had so many preservatives in it that it couldn’t sustain microbial life.  Jeff, don’t eat it.  I should go throw it out.

I ran into a pest control specialist yesterday who told me to abandon all previously purchased music programs and get this instead.  I don’t feel like spending a thousand dollars on something that won’t likely run on either of the computers I currently own, but it sure would be nice to be able to sing into a computer and have notation spit out the other end.

A crazy ass seagull banged its bill repeatedly into the front door at work.  Scariest sound I’ve heard in a while.  In more pleasant news there are many geese families right out front of work right now but you can’t get too close because the parents will assault you.

Interviews for my replacement have commenced; the good candidates all want too much money.  I don’t imagine they’ll get somebody like me any time soon for the price.  And that’s the last I’ll complain on the subject, and I’m not naming names.

 

Last gasp

This next two weeks is going to be very challenging.  Tina being gone means I’m doing a lot of order entry and phone answering; next week the office manager is gone and I haven’t been trained on a lot of her activities, so I suspect I’ll be very busy and very off balance.

However, there are only 8 more work days to live through, and I can do it.

 

 

My scariest aliens

1.  The alien from Alien.  I wrote a one sentence movie review for this film “Do not watch this film unless it is with someone whose profile you admire.”

2. The aliens from Pitch Black.  Those things scare the crap out of me.

3. Everything from Dead Space, the video game.  BRRRR. I don’t know how Jeff can play it.

4. He’s not really an alien but the holey man from First Man Into Space scared the PISS out of me when I was a kid.

5. The Martians from Mars Attacks.

 

 

Yesterday I ran errands and made pulled pork.  Today, church and laundry and a get together with the landlady.

goodbye

Today I say goodbye to a wonderful coworker; she resigned shortly before I did.  I am about to design a farewell card but I only have about half an hour to unleash my creativity before I have to leave.

Went to a crochet meetup last night. It was pleasant, but I need individualized instruction.

There’s other stuff going on in the background as usual but none of it is fit for a public forum.

ScaryClown got an award for outstanding employee contribution handed to him by somebody who didn’t know he’d just resigned.  BWA HA HA,  runs out of air, BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

New victims

Poor Margot. We’ve locked the cat door and Keith and Paul let her out last night not knowing she wasn’t going to get back in again until I got up around 5:30 (a good night’s sleep).

I have discovered that I am a lot more sentimental than I thought.  Keith got me a Mother’s Day card, which would have been sufficient, but also a gift card.  I burst into tears.  It’s just so nice to be loved.

Then we exposed them to Rick and Morty. NEW VICTIMS.

I am full of plans about what I’ll do when I’m off work again.  I do feel a lot more confident about the job hunt; I was doing things wrong and I admit that now, so it will go better.  I have a lovely new resume which should help, and I’ll be tailoring it a lot more.  It’s true, the bots looking through resumes don’t give a shit about me, and the po faced mental midgets who sort through them after the bots have done their jobs can’t assemble a sentence without turning into bleating morons.  However, it’s a game, it has rules, and I can’t win if I don’t play by the rules.  The rest of this paragraph has been erased on the strenuous and plaintive request of counsel.

On my list of things to do is a concert at Wreck Beach.  Don’t feel bad if you’re not invited.