Category: Education

Katie is here

Baking up a storm of maple bacon muffins, some of which will accompany to her foodsafe 2 class today.

Keith is going to the grands this weekend, and he will have biscotti in tow if the gods are kind.

Today I am ENDURING THE HORRAH of completing my first tax documents for the church. I will be glad when this term is over, despite all I have learned.

It is astonishingly windy – the recycling bin keeps leaping up and trying to make a run for it down the porch stairs.  The cats really don’t like it the noise.

Jeff says Margot had some kind of fit the other day.  Her eyes were open but she was impossible to rouse.  Then she perked up and was completely normal or as normalz as that crazy little fur machine ever gets.  Obviously I am mildly concerned but when cats are eating and drinking as per normal it’s hard to stay that way.

mOm, you will be amused to hear that Katie just came up behind me and said “can you read that in the dark?” and turned the lamp on.

Long and amusing phone call with Chipper yesterday.  She’s in much better spirits – her wordplay and sense of proportion have been somewhat restored – and she has been the biggest booster of the plan for the cafe.

I suppose I should pick up the phone and apologize to Carrie for our unfortunate text exchange, but I am still a little mad about it and if I am still resentful an apology will just make things worse.

Saw Mambo Kings the other day. I enjoyed the musical numbers and costume design a lot, and Antonio Banderas is a wriggling sack of puppies cute.

Lots of people asked me for the lyrics to my Beacon bday tune, so I am happy about that.

Receipting for tax time for donors at the church is done…. I will also be stuffing envelopes today.

And laundry.  I thought I was all caught up but the laundry basket is telling me different.

 

roundup

Mohenjo Daro one of the (in my view) current wonders of the world, is dying, disappearing, thanks in part to the poverty and incompetence of the government in charge of it.

A great collection of reaction gifs, some not safe for work.

If you want to find out what an ultra-thin and flexible BRDF [bidirectional reflectance distribution function] is, follow this link.   safe for work

This is no way to greet the dawning future, except that it is true.  safe for work.

I spoke to Lois, Kaitlin’s mother, last night (thank you Keith for arranging that).  She is doing about as well as can be expected. I don’t have much more to say.  I mostly listened.  I am very thankful that she has the support of so many family members and friends right now.

 

Back in school

Man, school is so much easier to take when you’re only doing it one day at a time.

Anyway, today was a seminar on starting your own business.  The level of detail and the pace of delivery were such that I only fell into the grip of boredom (and it was fuelled by lunch of course) the once in the midafternoon.  The rest of the time I played class clown in that highly irritating and ludicrous manner which irks Jeff on the occasions I uncork it around him. My idea of a good time is heckling Brian Eno and Cory Doctorow, although I’ve never gotten to do both in one day.  Anyway it was a great seminar and my brain is boiling like Nyiragongo’s lava pit.

Today is the day I should have mowed the lawn.

My mobility has rather surprisingly gone back to being really bad.  My knees hurt. Walking around downtown hurt.

Two of the people attending the seminar were people I knew.  One of them I hadn’t seen in 10 years; she had not gained a pound despite having childer and had not visibly aged.  Seriously.  I was charmed for her but had to resort to the time honored escape of itemizing to myself the one aspect of my appearance which was marginally better than hers by the standards of this cruel nasty culture.  I like to think I’m superior to other people, but all I am is more skilled.

My to do list just expanded by an unknown number of items.  As soon as I hit the little teal Publish button, I’m off to add the items/projects on the list.  And then, into the arms of George Illes, the rattiest of ratbastards, the meanest kind man or the kindest mean man who ever lived, and who is not alive, and who is not a man.

Various thoughts.

Anarchism is now a thoughtcrime in England.  Have to wonder when that will happen here too.  The shellacking of free speech continues throughout the naughtily monikered ‘free world’.  I can just HEAR John on the subject.

I came back from Katie’s place last night after I took her shopping and took Government Rd, because that tunnel of trees reminds me of coming back from Jericho on a warm summer night on the back of John’s scooter.  Christ, I miss him.  I keep waiting for it to go away, but grief mocks timetables and stalwart resolutions with a cascade of neurotransmitters.

One of my longest term friends and noted poet Lucile Barker recently came up with these two gems: “Intermiliating…an experience that is simultaneously humiliating and interesting.
Entermiliating…when it happens to someone else.”

I’ve been worrying and fussing over Pride day, off and on the last little while, but I finally put all my errant thoughts together after posting this to facebook :

After participating in half a dozen Pride parades in Vancouver, I’m starting to feel very conflicted about it.  It’s not that I think that there isn’t more to be done to encourage love and understanding for the genderqueer, non-normative folks among us and inside us, or that we can’t do more to support young people coming out, it’s that I’m starting to feel less celebratory.

I’m having a hard time with how awkward the massive influx of sponsorship cash makes me feel when Ugandan gays are getting killed.  I’m dying a little inside about how transgendered people get treated as they get lumped in with the gay spectrum, and dumped on by “women born women” (I’m still recovering from that disgusting tshirt that was on sale at the michfest) while fending off queries as to whether they have a website nudge nudge wink wink….  I’m not saying that queer bashing in Vancouver is dead or that hosanna sexism stepped out for a beer, or that white and other interlocking  privileges have quit working their evil magic on everything. We all know that’s bs.  The millennium came and went and things have improved in quanta and fractions and lumpy little increments.  I see more freedom on the horizon, and I don’t want it sponsored by a fucking brewer, thanks.  I want to be part of a human movement powered by human love, human dreams, human actions, not a pasted on smile that gets cleaned up by the sanitation department later that day.

Of course we need to celebrate victories and agitate for better and fewer laws.  But I’m not feeling celebratory.  I am mourning for the person I used to be, believing that Pride was a sign of how advanced we are.  I’ve watched the banks and breweries opt in, and that’s the point at which I want to opt out.  It felt transgressive, asskickingly, gloriously transgressive and liberating, to participate in years past.  Now it feels like a chore, so that I, a nominally straight woman and Unitarian, can have some street cred.

This weekend I’ll try to unpack a little more of my invisible knapsack; I’ll try to engage straight people I know in that discussion; I’ll find a queer charity in town to support.  But I’m not going to Pride.  It feels like someone else’s party now, and I don’t want be the jerk that crashes it for the cachet of saying I was there.

And so since my irritation right now is directed towards oppression of transgender people, I’ve been wracking my brains for a charitable organization I can give money to that will express my values.  And all of a sudden it occurred to me that the answer has been staring me in the face.

Purpose.

Which school in the lower mainland supports TG kids the most?  Purpose!  How do I know?  Because I was at a graduation and heard it from the mouth of a TG kid (FTM) that he never would have made it without Purpose.  And because, without education, a TG kid can’t escape the employment ghetto and build himself a life of meaningful independence.  Because I know from my kids that they can be out and proud at school and their teachers, support staff and principal will raise hell if they are bullied or maltreated.  So I will support education, transgender rights and young people with one donation, and now I can feel like my Pride weekend has actually meant something.  I feel better!

We celebrated Jeff’s bday with takeout Schnitzel and the final episode of Season One from Breaking Bad.  What a hell of a show.

Sundry and various

Call centers in Indian jails, this should work out well.

One Life to Live and All My Children will be cancelled. And replaced by a celebrity cooking show.  Hey women and shift workers!  Stay home and get fat, it’s not like you do any good to our advertisers otherwise.

Why would narrowed neck circulation have anything to do with MS?  But apparently it does.

Get your hands off that peen, or, what eXACTly are you testing for?  BC cancels controversial test of young offenders which involves handling young men’s junk.

If you’re a cop and get involved with drugs… you can collect two paychecks!  Mind you you’re not reporting the second one, but o well.  Woot!

Teachers in BC get a say over class size and composition. This is very good news for BC kids and parents, not to mention the teachers.  If you’ve ever taught a kindergarten class which is 1/3 ESL and has two special needs kids and is 30 students (not making this up, I have a friend who was in this spot) you’ll know what I mean.  Just getting them to line up for the can is a challenge!

I don’t get it. Can somebody explain to me why this is funny?

I’m impressed!  Ba-dum kish!

Katie’s only been here two nights and already I am fidgetty.  9 pm last night she leaves, says she’ll be back late, doesn’t show, doesn’t text.  Is she in a ditch? Did she crash at Kashka’s? Is she where she probably is?  And why’n fuck do I care? (Apart from how, every time she doesn’t come home, I have to rehearse what I’ll say to the cops if they come to my door?)

I blearily and wearily looked out my back door this morning, and thought, “Spring and Vancouver… no longer BFFs?”  There’s like half an inch of hoarfrost on things.  I knew at the end of March we’d get more snow because I could smell it.  Sounds stupid, but it’s true.  Now I can’t smell the end of it.  Snow tires will remain on car until further notice.

The move at work is getting closer.  Sure would like to know when we’re getting training on the new phone system and how it interacts with the call center software, but I’ve been assured there will be training.

Our CEO is leaving, and our new CEO is younger and French.  Rumour has it he’s moving to Vancouver.  I’ve met him the once, and apart from observing that he has a George Hamilton grade tan and a sense of humour, I have no comment.

The cats have been extremely rangy.  Margot in particular has been up in Eddie’s grill.  Eddie came for a nice long hug last night.

I played Buzz for about half an hour last night.  He’s going to be my bed time snack.  He’s so quiet when unplugged, but he sounds great.  I was thinking of dragging the amp into my bedroom, and just said screw it and brought Buzz in.

I can hear Margot laboriously licking herself on the basement stairs.

 

 

John gets a parting shot

From his close friend and landpeer, the incomparable Juliana, comes an email I simply must share in its entirety:

Allegra, as an anarchist I thought you would appreciate this.   In 2007, John took to me a movie to celebrate my birthday.  It was at University of Victoria, where he had a film membership.  He carefully parked his scooter on the sidewalk next to the bicycles and we attended a wonderful film about the life of Edith Piaf.  When we came back out, it was to find a parking ticket, & he was NOT amused.  Being John he had no intention to pay the ticket and ignored a number of friendly reminders from the University.

Forward to this morning when “he” received a letter from the University telling him that they had not been chasing him for the past 1.5 years because of a court dispute regarding the right for UBC to issue citations but that he still owed the money and they now wanted it.  Apparently after appeal and counter appeal, UVIC is with it’s rights to cite violators so…. they were back at it.

I phoned, asked for Accounts Receivable and started the conversation with  “Account # blah blah”  …   I explained that John would not be paying the bill because he was dead.  I controlled the urge to tell her he wouldn’t have paid it if he was alive either.  Period of Silence, then a pause for review and she came back on the line to tell me his account had been deleted from the system.

I know John is happy to know he won.  A small victory and I’d much rather pay the $20 and have him back but… he won.

hugs and love

Juliana

Sundry and Various

Last night when I was coming home I realized I wanted retail therapy, so I got Robaxicet, a teach yourself to read music book (which actually taught me something I had not understood before in the first five minutes, so that was useful), a miniature Gumby and Pokey set for Jeff, Ecuadorian chocolate, Cutthroat beer & a proper set of headphones for work including volume control.  Now of course I realize that I’m an idiot and I just should have gone straight home, so I would have avoided a broken down bus and…

ick….

wait for it….

auditions for Canada’s Next Top Model in Brentwood Mall – when the batteries in my camera had just quit.  Oh, and my cell phone batteries quit in tandem, so I couldn’t fire off an irritated text message to Jeff. I wanted to take a picture of the swarm of identical, malnourished, streak haired, pointy faced hopefuls, but instead I got an eyeful of leering men and resigned looking parents.  Rechargeable NiMh batteries do not cut it for this application.

I am just about finished my laundry, finally, and will be moving on to other interesting events today, like trying to sweet talk Jeff into accompanying me on a shopping expedition.  Yes, I know, but I want two things you can’t get nearby or easily, being my favourite kind of soap (French, honeysuckle scented) and more Sculpey so Katie can finish her chess set. And more paint.  I think I need blue, clear coat, and maybe a bronze or silver metallic.  And a fatter brush so I can really slop it on.  ScaryClown says he paints everything he does flat black and then paints overtop of that.  I will defer to the master on that one. He has severely restricted his alcohol intake, but frankly, he doesn’t look happier. And he’s bringing his lunches these days. So has the Dalai Jarmo, but that’s traditional for Finnfolk in early January, and he looks very happy these days and he’s going to be sitting close but not too close to me in the new regime.  PS note to self I need one of those who the **** is behind me mirrors for work.

Katie, bless her, did not actually look for work yesterday, rrr.  But Keith fitted his first set of contact lenses (perfectly, so he says) the day before yesterday so it appears that continuing to support his efforts to get edumacated is wise.

Jim and Jan are here this weekend and I can’t wait to see them.  They are so wonderful.  I wish I could just buy a city block and move everybody I love here. Except that many of them, like a kitty cat struggling to escape, would not be happy about living in Vancouver.  It’s a nice place to visit, etc.  And when I get a house I want laundry on the same level as my bedroom.  I got that when I was living in the Cornerstone building and gosh darn, I want that again, although that might have something to do with how steep the basement stairs are.  I nearly fell down them this week and it was scary as hell, because Jeff had his headphones on and I might have had a very poor time of it.

Biscotti.  Again.  I will be shipping it off to people by mail.

Valentine cards.  Since I am sending work valentines to Barcelona, California, Indiana and Washington, I have to start early this year.  There are 150 people on the list!!! I have created a monster, yet again.

I know somebody personally who is going to the inauguration, and I will be able to hear about it later this month.  Me happy.

Plotting n planning

April 18th, so I learn, will be the date for the Willie P Memorial concert in Victoria.  I will consult with the folks and assemble a tune or two… more details as they firm up.  I am thinking about taking the day off.
This weekend a SPIT.  It’s been bally ages since we did that, and we’re meeting up Saturday in a bookstore, so all is good and beautiful.  Then church again on Sunday to set up chairs.  I will be faster this time as I know the drill.  It’s not particularly onerous, but I did feel it on Monday when I woke up; given that my set up partner is well old enough to be my dad further complaining shall be nixed.

This evening, if the fates are kind and the winds propitious, the Luddite will turn up for supper.  I’m thinking home made tortillas. Which reminds me, I should back away slowly from the computer and do some prep so I don’t have to when I get home.

I’m finding the commute okay.  I’m also thinking of finding alternate routes to shake things up a bit, like walking over to Rupert and taking the bus down to that station, to see if maybe I can’t work a little more exercise into the morning routine at least on mornings when it isn’t pouring rain.  The commute is improved by having an MP3 player.  Current set list is a bit eclectic… it’s everything from me singing Lifeline – (I usually skip over it, because as much as I love PD Wohl’s tasty backing I’m not liking my singing) to Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony, the Who’s Won’t Get Fooled Again, John Hiatt’s Walk On, Aretha Franklin’s Chain of Fools… eclectic, yup.  Oh, and the Bastard Fairies We’re All Going to Hell; it’s impossible to sit on the train and listen to that and not smirk.

Further plotting includes maybe taking a songwriting class with the aforementioned PD Wohl; considering maybe taking a course at BCIT now I’m ten minutes away by bus; and figuring out which of Vancouver’s cultural events of the month of April Jeff and I might want to take in.  Also, planning dinner for Friday, the first inaugural fall down.  Honestly, I’m thinking takeout.  Hopefully this large blank where my cooking thoughts usually get scrawled will fill in between now and then.
I can more or less see the floor in my room.

We appear to have blown a fuse in the kitchen.  Sigh.

Jeff, saintly geek that he is, has run his hands over Suzanne’s laptop and restored it to health. (Don’t anybody else get any funny ideas).  Suzanne and Katie dropped by yesterday to collect it with thanks.  Katie got her stipend for helping me move and get my deposit back which was awesomely swift – I hadn’t expected to see it until mid month, but Ray at Cornerstone is the best of landpeers, and he does what he says.

The landpeers here have not responded to Jeff’s polite enquiries about which of the minor irritants he can attack next, which means that he’s going to ignore their ignoring him, and I’ll have my doors fixed shortly.

Somehow I ended up with an autographed Groo in my belongings.  Happy sigh.  I love Groo.

Yet more Deadwood last night after supper, which was spaghetti.

Time to chop veg.