Category: Work

Miss Margot continues her plans for global domination

In direct contravention of the breeder’s request, I am letting her out on the back deck.  This is made easier by the fact that she comes back in when you call her. I don’t want to get her a collar but I will have to now that she is going outside.

She and Gizmo ate next to each other yesterday and touched noses. 

I’m glad I made it to work, Tanya’s sick, poor baby.  Of course when a massively pregnant woman calls in sick everybody is hopping from one foot to the next predicting imminent parturition.

Miss Margot purred and purred and purred this morning.  She is a most companionable critter.

Jeff caught her doing parkour on the livingroom furniture yesterday.

Canucks win 3 zip over St Louis. Many horns honk.

I am quite sure all the bars in town breathed a sigh of relief.

Click here for an amazing assortment of zoo pictures from around the world.

Paul stopped by on his way back into town.  His sis and bro-in-law are doing famously – she is starting to do doula work in rural Alberta, which is exciting.  Lois always was one of my fave people.  Their mom Phyllis is also, apparently, well, and my hat’s off to her given what a challenge it is to fly solo when you’re up in your eighties and not so mobile as you once were.

Miss Margot just gave me a demonstration of what Jeff has had to put up with these last few weeks, by climbing up my bare leg with her claws.  I am so proud of myself for not screaming.

Keith is coming over today, and then later we’ll be off to Lexi, Darwin and Rob’s for dinner.  Katie has been contacted and advises she is coming too.

There is a housefilk today (I got the dates wrong) AND a party at Mike’s tonight. Why does all the fun have to pile up in one day?  I wish I could bilocate.  Or trilocate.

CSI has either jumped the shark or is warming it up backstage.  They did a Star Trek knockoff episode, although having Grace Park in the audience was a nice touch. We’ll see if they’re back on the game next week.

ScaryClown liked my word crapstack (which I introduced on this blog a mite ago) and has made it more official sounding by putting ‘metric’ in the front.  Doesn’t a ‘metric crapstack of work’ sound official?  I quite like it.

and now, an anteater in a purple sweater

because the internet says so.

Worked until just before 8 last night.  Nothing is ever simple.  But I can see my desk.  This is important, because it means my desk has been clean two work days running.

I will be blunt.  Very very blunt.  We have hired a woman who is a dead ringer for Morena Baccarin and seems to have just that bubbly kind of personality that makes engineers turn into vast blobs of goo (she’s married – which is good). She also mentioned that she’s very organized, and I believe her.  She’s going to cover Tanya’s maternity leave.  If ever there was a woman who was my polar opposite (except she does have a sense of humour, thank goodness) this new gal would be her.

I, being evil, want Tanya’s desk and that means I have to clean mine off.  See, it all makes sense. Anyway, Newgal starts on Monday so I am, after more than a thirty years of desk surfaces that look like hippos have recently left off fornicating upon them (Catherine’s original phrase was more trenchant but less family friendly, and besides, hippos can’t fornicate because they don’t have souls) I am going to try to train myself to keep it clean.  Jeff, passing in front of my room and surveying Grandad’s desk, gets a hall pass on however many snorts of amusement he wishes to emit, because there are midget high crapstacks on it.  If tidy begins at home, I gots me a problem.

Miss Margot slept on my bed last night and purred.

Big Bang Theory last night was great.

Beautiful day

I got up at 6:30 yesterday and started work on the canonical list of allegrasongs; I checked the 130 strong list of songs, removed the inadvertent duplicates that had crept in because I keep changing the song titles, I found one missing set of lyrics, added a dozen which I actually know the lyrics to but had never (oops) written down, checked the list of songs again and marked all the ones I don’t have lyrics for; was HORRIFIED to learn that I no longer have the lyrics for “But can she type?” which is an extremely 70’s sitcom theme-styled song about looking for a job in Toronto in the early 80’s. The tune I still have, it’s a swooping cheerful rollicking thing.

As best I can remember:

The customer is always right

and so whenever possible

I try to be the customer

But lately I’ve been looking for a job

and it aint easy

Can’t say how much I wish it were!

But can she type, but can she type?

Watch the paper and the fingers fly

the fingers fly….

Pound the pavement knock on doors

it doesn’t matter metaphors

it doesn’t matter what you choose

They all want to pay you this

and you want to make that

Whatever happens you will lose.

and then in an annoying talking blues style…

they give me tests… on a keyboard dinosaur…. date of manufacture – 1964! Christ, this thing is almost as old as me….

and then I’m missing a verse. Candidly, I suck!  But I just copied what I typed into the data base, so, go me.

Then I remembered a huge chunk of a song that when Paul criticized me about it (he gave me a 10 minute lecture on how I should not write about such disgusting subjects, a view he no longer holds and has expressed contrition for) I put the song down.  What is my problem? (ed.  You think you have only one???)  I respond to criticism much as JRR Tolkien – I either ignore it in its entirety or abandon what I was working on, which in a nutshell is why I’ve never made a nickel from my work.  It’s hardly Paul’s fault if I don’t have an adult reaction to comments. Anyway, angry that I had lost the first verse, I wrote another one, which, I am convinced, is better, or at least has a slick internal rhyme.  Thank you Flying Spaghetti Monster in my brain.

Then, after I whined that I was on a creative roll and didn’t feel like cooking dinner, as I had promised to do, the kids and Paul showed up with Chinese food and we stuffed ourselves, and then Paul and I had the untrammelled delight of watching Katie fall asleep on the sofa WITH A BOOK IN HER HAND.  TV does it again.  Katie watched True Blood and loved it (June, 2009, there will be more!) and then I bought her the first book and she went nuts and has since acquired the rest of the series, some bought by her G’ma (that is mOm’s ‘thug’ name, so’s you know) (I am the Notorious M.O.M.) and some by Dax, who doesn’t need a thug name but has softened my prickly heart by buying my girl books.  I sent a cinnamon bun home with him yesterday for his roommate, just to show that I’m not a hater… and one for him, too.  They are the bestest cinnamon bunses ever, as I melted half a 70% Purdy’s bar into the goo, and I’m saving some for Jeff when he gets home from Victoria this evening because he will not want to miss them.  As promised Robof9 will be getting one today.

Then Paul and I went for a walk, the weather FINALLY having cleaned up and then he went to work and the kids hung around until after I went to bed.  Margot didn’t sleep with me last night, sad face.

Now, to fly out to the living room and clean up the ungodly mess of cables and musical instruments I left like a booby trap, a quick shower, and off to my shiny place of employment.  I had a great day yesterday, and I got really really close to getting something crossed off my list.  Excelsior!!

Friend news

Peter A. has gotten rid of his downstairs tenant.  He is very happy.  She fought with the neighbours.  He was just about to service the eviction notice… and she gave notice. 

Robof9 has learned to unicycle.

Chris S. is going to be dj-ing at the ANZA Club this week.

Tanya is still SERIOUSLY pregnant.  We are rapidly running out of tactful ways to describe her rotundity.

Cris is still a troublemaker. 

Christopher Lee (our chef was named after the horrormeister, doesn’t that rock?) made an amazing shrimp salad for lunch.  It was a masterpiece of yumminess.

Dax has found a place to live.

Carrie is coming to Vancouver in about a week.

Dr. Filk is making music and trouble in Ontario.

Paul’s off to a training course in Toronto on Sunday and will be visiting rellies while he’s there.

Jeff is covered in scratches on his legs from where Miss Margot has decided that if he’s upholstered he must be something she can climb.  Honestly, he looks like he’s gone a round with a bobcat.

Patricia will be going to Australia, I’m so excited for her!

Granny has a cracked rib.  The owie, the owie!

pOp says getting old is teh suck.

mOm denies that she is feeling poorly…. Robaxicet to the rescue!

Trevor is going to New Zealand today – with his wife and two kids under 5.  The horror, the horror!

Kitty (and people)

Every morning she climbs up on me and ritually sneezes in my face.  This is, according to the lad I got her from, pretty normal.

She is struggling less and less when I brush her; when she’s about as relaxed as I can expect, I’ll bathe her. Jeff has made me swear a mighty oath that I won’t do it unless he can film the entire thing.  I’m thinking we should film it AND get stills.  It’s gonna be an event.  Now kitty is stalking the power cord for the MacBook.  Now she’s chasing Gizmo off his food dish…. bad plan.

To be able to wake up at 2 am, with her just out of my sleepthrashing range on the bed, instantly purring when I reach out to touch her ludicrously soft fur, is the most beautiful thing in my life right now.  I know I kinda ‘bought a friend’ but there was no guarantee she would even like me, and but she’s showing every sign of liking me a lot, rushing up to me when I come home from work.  She likes Jeff fine, but I’m the one who cleans her and brushes her, so she knows who mom is.

She’s got the boys completely whipped, and it hasn’t even been two weeks.

When Katie was here for dinner two Sundays ago Margot jumped onto the blue exercise ball in the living room.  Jeff reports that she has now jumped onto the ball and stood on it for a second and then jumped off.  I wish I had somebody who could circus train her, she’s got native talent.  The man who runs the cat circus (and while looking for him I found the Charles Mingus Cat Toilet Training Program, apparently written by the bassist himself) says that by watching a cat carefully you can tell if they have a certain bent and then you very slowly and patiently shape the behaviour until they are pushing strollers full of other cats, walking on high wires, walking on their front paws, and doing complicated dance routines with other cats, among the many other bizarre things he’s trained cats to do.

Hm.  Well, I’ve been remiss in reporting the social news.  Dr. Filk paid us a flying visit on Friday, and mightily glad was I to see him, and he found la belle Margot entertaining.

Paul and the kids were by for Sunday dinner and we watched Jurassic Park.  Paul brought the best pork roast, and we had onions and carrots and taters and corn, so it was a real Sunday dinner.

No date with my new friend this past weekend, I’ve been feeling a bit off colour and my foot is still hurting like a b9st9rd so anything involving more than about ten blocks of walking finishes me off.  Yes, I should see a doctor, but for what?  To get told it’s sprained ligaments and I should get orthotics?  I am so tired of going to the doctor and finding out I’m a jeezly hypochondriac.  Given that I’m fifty I’m sure I’ll get bad news eventually but every health scare I’ve had except for my back – which is the same as always, thanks – has turned out to be figmentary.  Actually, I took Robaxicet last night and I had an AWESOME night’s sleep.

Just fixed poached eggs and toast for brekkie, and I am now contemplating a second cup of coffee.  Oh Margot, quit chewing on the cable…..  If you get electrocuted, nobody will be able to tell.

The landpeers have rearranged the way they park their vehicles so I can use the walkway.  Jeff and I are responding by ensuring they have the rent cheques in hand in about fifteen minutes.  It’s actually kinda handy having the landpeers that close.

I handed out biscotti at work yesterday.  Man, I love doing that.

I wish I could blog about work.  But continued employment beckons encouragingly, so I will defer to my more sensible, grownup, beaten down by capitalizm self, and keep my icecream siphon closed.

Speaking of ice cream.  I brought some home last night.  Then I said to Jeff, “Screw this noise… Dessert, it’s what’s for supper.”  Thus my atonement with a nourishing and sensible brekkie today.

The laundry list

Woke up at 2.

Eddie crying in my room again, but this time he let me pet him for about half an hour.

Could not for the life of me go back to sleep.

Did not want to go to work.  So…. tired….

Another commute to work in the drear rain, which magically transmuted to snow on the hill, and they are doing construction and thus diverted us onto a pathway that appeared to be clay mixed with greasy snow.  Almost fell four times on the way to work, again, the worst slip causing me to pull muscles.  Being diverted into a muck heap almost wrecked my shoes.  Complained to the site supervisor that where we were being forced to walk was a safety hazard, you bastard, have a nice day.

Got to work and everybody is asking me why I’m limping.  I wish I knew.  The last time I limped this much my back crapped out shortly afterward.  The pain in the top of my foot is worse when I walk and better when I climb or descend stairs, which makes NO SENSE to me. Why would flexing the foot hurt less?  The pain is markedly less when I do not wear footgear, which means I should hie me off and spend more money I don’t have on orthotics.  I used to get depressed when I was presented with yet another physical challenge, now I just set my jaw.

In the afternoon, Jeff got me at work and dropped me off at David Lam campus where – I had learned that morning – I was NOT going to get a contact lens fitting from my son but from a total stranger.  I stopped off in the campus bookstore and got Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell, and a really cool flashcard book about human anatomy, then went to my appointment and then learned that all the grudgy hopeless feelings melted – all Keith had had to do was say I was his mother, and they swapped things around so that I could get the fitting from him.  Got fitted – it was damned thorough – and walked away with saline and two new contact lenses, which fit great and which I wore for about three hours.  My eyes are a bit gummy today, but not significantly more than they are in the mornings anyway.  As we were commuting back home together I read bits of Homage aloud to Keith and the two of us were killing ourselves laughing, because grim as the subject is (Spanish Civil War), parts of it are screamingly funny.

Then Jeff went to a job interview which went well and he can news about it if he wants to, and then on the way home my cell rang and it was ScaryClown, saying OMG new kitty I’m coming over (reMARkable what getting a new animal does for your social life) as ScaryClown is crazy mad insane for cats and then we watched the 1929 ship around the Horn documentary, with ScaryClown occasionally emitting phrases of stunned appreciation, amusement and awe (JUST as I expected).

Then I cooked pierogies and fed them and then we watched some Robot Chicken including one I hadn’t previously seen, and then I went to bed because I keep having insomnia.  Thankfully, not last night.  Miss Margot slept with me voluntarily last night (she got up to explore in the night and then came back to bed) and I slept until just before six.  So I actually feel like a human being this morning, and my son is showing signs of turning into a professional, and a friend stopped by, and tonight I gotta fetch la Margot to the kitty hospital and get her booster shots.

I hope to go swimming with the folks from Planet Bachelor tonight.  I may feel subpar with all these aches and pains, but I still have to exercise and walking is turning out to be problematic.  I mean, bus drivers are stopping between stops to pick me up, how often does THAT happen?

Oh, and I fixed my hat so it sits on my head better.

Oh, and Katie called me voluntarily and without asking for money.  And she asked me for my opinion about her hair, which is like asking Miss Margot for an interpretive dance on the Berlin Air-lift.  I said, “You’re twenty years old and stunningly gorgeous, do your hair however the hell you like!”  Now that’s what I call solid parental advice.

In Victoria

Paul and Katie and I made the crossing – my new boss, may he be praised and adored – another Finn, what is it with the Finns anyway? – let me out early enough that we could easily catch the six o’clock.  It is one of the new boats, the German ones, and it shudders and groans like it was a twenty year boat needing drydock.  Paul of course went and talked to a staffer and learned that the screws don’t submerge deep enough and the damned things burn fuel like a Viking funeral.  Argh, what the hell is wrong with this province?  Didn’t we learn about this kinda crap with the Fast Cat?  Argh I say again.

Work ended, amusingly enough, with me going to my new boss, who is, as far as I can tell, a man who prizes his ability to keep his facial expression under tight control, and saying, “Hey, somebody is going to come by you and say that I’m lazy, incompetent and a menace to the company!” “Which somebody?” “Really?  When she comes to complain can I ask her about the 15 emails I’ve sent her that she’s never answered?” Then his face twitched, and I burst out laughing.  What happened to Patricia?  Alaaaaaaaaaas, she went to the dark side and into Inside Sales.  LTGW said, tersely, “A good fit for her skill set.”  Well, duh.  Anyway, I have to come up with a good nickname for my new boss, because he richly deserves one and I am not going to use his real name because he does not have the same sprightly approach to life, work and all that as my previous (and much missed for the joy of her physical presence, I have to say) boss.

The middle part of work was also amusing.  The new VP engineering sat with my lunch bunch, which freaked the hell out of me.  VPs never sit at my table.  I looked around at the guys and said, uh oh.  New VP sez, What?  “Well I’m not really used to controlling my language,” to which the response was, “It’s okay, I was in the navy.”  “Not like this you weren’t” but of course that just meant that everybody at the table peppered the new VP with questions about life on a fast attack nuclear sub, for which he was the chief maintenance dude.  I should mention at this point that the new VP is in his mid forties, could give George Clooney a run for his money in terms of looks and charm, and is a triathlete.

SIMULTANEOUSLY ScaryClown and I asked if he’d ever been attacked by a giant squid.  Actually I got the question out first, but ScaryClown said, “I wanted to ask that!” Then we burst out laughing and gave each other a fist bump.  Our new squid overlords are turning out quite fine.

The rest of the day I sent angry emails, entered returns, made Tanya laugh, missed Cris, had yet ANOTHER email encounter with the WORST CUSTOMER EVER and wrote one email which triggered another email which said, “Oh yeah, we didn’t actually consult customer service about that.  My meeting, let me show it to you.”  Then I abruptly remembered that I have a new boss, and made a pretence of consulting him, and then he said, “Uh, I think that’s a meeting I want to attend… I have a few questions myself.”  So once again, I poked the bear and lived.  And my boss let me leave early.  And Paul let me drive.

Back to Victoria.  Lexi and Darwin -asleep and thus not evident- were here, as were the parents and Unca Barry.  Unca Barry had brought a really interesting documentary about the last sailing of a four masted cargo vessel around Cape Horn, which I didn’t watch because I was too busy blabbing with Lexi and Katie. 

I had a really good night’s sleep, although I miss wireless, because normally I sleep with my computer (what?  What?) and I just roll over in the morning and start surfing the internet. (Yes, I know that will have to change when the heavens open and I actually have a special somebody to sleep with on a regular basis, in the meantime, it’s how it is in my life.  At least it’s warm.)

Paul went off to stay with his bro, Dr. Filk, and will be back to collect me as we will be flying up the Island Highway to see his cousin Ruth IF the weather cooperates because it’s supposed to bucket snow.

Keith really wanted to come but somebody had to feed kitties.  Also, unlike Katie, he is actually physically and emotionally capable of getting here on his own; thus the requirement to have an adult always accompany her.

 

I can hear Darwin!!!! Time to go be a cousin.

Relief at last

I lost my bank card about three weeks ago but only called the bank to replace it a week ago, and it turned up yesterday.  Without a bank card I couldn’t pay bills on line which was bad, or spend much money, which was good.  I think I will start leaving it at home unless I have a planned cash expenditure that day.  I run a tab at the cafeteria at work and only pay it off twice a month.

I light a candle for Zari at work; her mum died back in Iran and she couldn’t go to the funeral, and she’s been feeling really blue ever since.  Then she said something that made me really sad; she said that even with everything that is so bad about back home, she’d be retired by now if she lived in Iran.  I will be working until I am sixty-five, so I know how she feels…

After sober consideration, Jeff responded to the twit next door who told him in a note on his windshield to quit parking in his space.  There is no assigned parking on this street.  To think I cut a hole in the snowbank so the neighbour could have access to his car, during the last snowstorm!  To think he has SIX PLACES TO PARK, two in his garage, two in his paved over yard, and two in front of his house!  Anyway, Jeff’s letter was a masterpiece; too bad it won’t help do anything except vent Jeff’s spleen.

I forgot to mention that when I left Mike’s place on Monday night a skunk greeted me.  I walked out into the road and said what I always say when I get too close to a critter; “Evening, brother skunk,” as I have heard that if you project civility animals are less likely to attack you.  Skunks sure have an odd gait.

Every night at 5:45, about three to four thousand crows gather around the Keg on Willingdon.  The sky is sometimes black with them.  I am going to try to get pictures tonight.

I hope everybody has a simply splendid day, and a nice weekend.

Yours truly, Robof9

You know how I’m always going on about how they are trying to kill me with how slippery the walkways are?  Here’s Robof9’s take on it.

 

To whom it may concern,

 

My colleagues and I have been astounded by the lack of care and attention applied to the walkways on campus this winter season.

 

(Allegra edit – you miserable bastards, are you trying to kill us???)

 

Each morning, I and many of my fellow employees make the trek from the Cornerstone bus loop down to Discovery Park where we work.  We can be sure that on any morning when the temperature approaches zero degrees, we will be treated to a Russian roulette of walkways, staircases, and roadways that have been variously covered in snow, slush, or black ice.

 

(Allegra edit – But why slag the Russians when lazy Canadians will do???)

 

In particular, the worst two locations have been the pathway that connects South Campus Road to the parking lot immediately uphill from the Discovery Park buildings (and coincidentally, right across the street (downhill) from the Facilities Management building!).  This gladed run is steep, and due to either soil erosion or poor design has tilted off-camber in such a way as to guarantee a painful slide into the railing just as you’re trying to turn the corner at the bottom.

 

(Allegra edit, as I have personally witnessed, and it’s no damned fun watching or sliding).

 

The staircases that connect the Discovery Park parking lot to the buildings below are also continually in a deplorable state, particularly the western stairway.  They only seem to get attention a week after the weather has rendered them more suitable for an alpine Olympic event than for safe walking passage.

 

(Allegra edit, I would have said something a little more heated than deplorable – I was thinking “A F*****G MENACE”!)

 

In the last week alone, I have ground the knee off of a brand new pair of Levis (drawing blood in the process), and wasted a medium-sized cup of Costa Rican Rocket Fuel from Renaissance Coffee.  I’ve also witnessed half a dozen good solid falls by international students heading to the FIS/MTF building.

 

(Allegra edit – and I saw three myself this morning by the little waterfall.)

 

It’s only a matter of time before someone seriously injures themselves on these walkways.  Please take action now to see that they are properly cleared on a more regular basis, before someone gets hurt!

 

Thanks very much,

Robof9

(Who didn’t sign it that way….)

Sleep and food and Saturday links

Casting the witch in the Wizard of Oz.
 I heart Margaret Hamilton.

This is just freaky, but I’m only posting it because of the Firefly reference.

I was really suspicious of the do not call registry right from the beginning, mostly because after the gun registry debacle I didn’t think the Canadian government could organize something conspicuous in a camouflage store.  Now we learn, surprise! bafflement! that the government is SELLING the list at a nominal price to whoever will pay for it. Alas, Ottawa.

In about 2 hours I’ll be jumping on the transit for my coffee date.  Instead of swithering, I’m sorting laundry, acting as cat doorwoman, paying bills, cooking AWESOME split pea with ham soup, making breakfast for me and Jeff and answering emails.  I had a wonderful night of sleep – slept maybe 1 1/2 hours longer than normal.  I actually feel good.

Perhaps it has something to do with the departmental meeting with the new Ops great grandboss at work.  Like Holy Paradigms Batman.  I was buzzing like a thwacked beehive and dancing up and down like a little kid when I got home last night (met up with Keith at Brentwood station and the little bugger did a ninja on me, sneaking up behind me in the bus line up) because I was so happy with the meeting.

There are four priorities in the new configuration of the company.  Safety, Quality, Customer Service and Financial Results.  So I recited them to the dude to indicate that I’d stayed conscious during one of the town halls, and then I asked him to give me the matching 4 mantras of corporate culture.  In a very TED lecture kinda way, he said, “Respect, Metrics, Voice of the Customer and We’re Only in One Business, and that’s the Only Business that We’re In” (not phrased like that and over a much longer period of time) and gave examples to support it.  The previous group he’d been with had just sat and stared at him.  Patricia and I peppered him with questions until he told us (respectfully) to let the men get a word in edgewise (and just think about the state of the world that this would be the case… I love the 21st century).  Then I insulted his wife’s taste in sweaters (yes, I know, and I am going to be punished, I’m sure) and we went home.  It was supposed to be a half hour meeting and it took nearly two hours and the time FLEW BY.  My hopes and fears for the future remain the same, but my hopes definitely have my fears in a hammerlock.

I’ve been conversing with Deb about her daughter Jenn and her Pitbull rescue organization.  Here’s the link. Unfortunately it’s not possible to get a tax receipt for Canadian donors but I urge my American readers to make a donation if it meets their criteria for a worthy charity.

And tomorrow, time for a baptism.  Me happy.

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.

Another glorious day at work

Jarmo’s on my team, Jarmo’s on my team, Jarmo’s on my team!!!!!!

I talked to Mike today, he’s doing better.

LTGW and Francis went swimming at lunch at the aquatic center at the university.  The thought of LTGW in swimming trunks kept a happy smile on my face most of the afternoon.

Robof9 wrote one of the most humane pieces of business communication I have ever seen, not to me, but gosh it was good.   I heart Robof9.

On the basis that I wouldn’t want to hear it read back to me in court – a sore point with me and Patricia these days, although not because we’re having problems with each other – I deleted this first line.  I may say Patricia’s a happy woman these days, and she’s taking her boyfriend (long, long, long, and wonderful and not bloggable story) – to Carmen.

Tanya booked her 3D ultrasound, which of course I didn’t have access to back in the Mesozoic, when I was progenizing.  Gosh, it was a long time ago, and it gets longer ago all the bloody time!  It is good to experience the wonders of birth anew vicariously through Tanya.  PS, her sister in law accused her of STALKING HER.  When Tanya was at home in bed.  Asleep.  This is not good for the baby in waiting, and if the first thing that baby does the first time it’s in the same room as the SIL is vomit and spray feces like Eta Carinae spews light, it’ll be better than the SIL deserves.  Oh, I’m so hoping Tanya’s eating when she reads this and sprays partly chewed Cheerios on her laptop as she’s lying in bed.  Hugs to Battery.

Daxus got the ring Katie got him out of pawn.  Seriously, I’m not crazy about the priorities, but it makes an incredible difference to Katie… huge in fact.  If she’s happy bla bla bla.  Jeff just scowled when I told him; he’s not the only one who feels like that.

We watched a documentary about the Hubble, thus the Eta Carinae reference earlier.

And I’m happy.  I’m really quite unreasonably, and unseasonably, happy.  I don’t understand how I can be so blah one day and so in a happy groove the next.  Earlier this week I felt like scrap, and I feel good now….This despite the fact that my company’s landlord and the university ARE TRYING TO KILL ME EVERY SINGLE MORNING by not putting salt and sand down.  There was a skin of ice on the stairs and the walkway this morning that nearly sent me on my ass and definitely wiped out some others.  What’s with these people?  Don’t they know that people who try to kill me don’t get biscotti?

Was it the ice cream?  Mayan Chocolate ice cream is very good.  That’s enough to keep you happy for a minute.