One Afternoon Later...
Mood:  energetic
Topic: The World in Pictures
You start with an idea and see how far you get. Then you figure out ways to beat the system to get what you want. It's that simple. Today I wanted to put a photo album together for my late friend Hilda Thomas and I had to sign up for another space on Tripod. What with this blog and the IWD album, there wasn't the space. It's okay, really, because now I can remount the Dublin album that nobody saw. Long story.

One reason to feel anxious is Stephen Harper's rise in the polls. You could argue that he's only made people feel better temporarily with his get-tough-on-crime speeches. He's also successfully kept his party of bigots in line and so avoided explaining unpleasant comments. Harper's also making some effort to appear human and warm. I don't know how he manages.

Prime Minister Martin hasn't been so lucky. His communications director Scott Reid's hall of fame comment about parents spending daycare money on beer and popcorn was priceless. Reid, who bears a slight resemblance to actor Steve McQueen, seems generally full of himself, and I notice we haven't seen him much on Question Period. Watching grown-up pretty boys acting like bigshots is maddening.

Then there's the investigation into Ralph Goodale, an episode of "who spilled the beans" regarding the income trust policy leak. People are getting really tired of the Liberals. They've been running this country so long it's as though we'll never get rid of them.

Why the hell isn't Jack Layton making any headway? I'm tired of asking.

Damn Doctors
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Living Despite Chemistry
Well, just the one, really. Dr. A, the young Middle Eastern fellow who didn't understand why I wanted to get out of the hospital as promised, decided to prescribe me 600 mg of iron per day, an amount that exceeds that given to pregnant women. I called him at VGH to confirm how much I was to take because I ended up buying a bottle of 300 mg over the counter for $5, as per the pharmacist's suggestion. Lord knows how much it would've been had the script been filled. As though pulling numbers from the air, he told me that often people took one a day, sometimes two. When pressed, he said I should take two and I did that for eight days with some unsettling results. I'm not surprised. Within five minutes of meeting him in triage, it was clear he preferred more demure, obedient patients. Possibly he has trouble with assertive women. Don't worry, I won't overthink it.

Now I've discover the hazards of taking iron. In case it isn't obvious, people who aren't anemic don't need it; the liver stores iron and if there's too much, that's inviting serious trouble [like transplants]. Your poop will become tarry, your stomach will feel like you've ingested acid, and you will be tired nearly all the time. Oh, and cancer cells really like iron. Sounds like a genius idea prescribing me iron, doesn't it? These nasty effects can present after ingesting only 25mg a day so we can imagine how I'd be after an entire month of 600 mg a day helpings. I could only bear 8 days. Wish I'd checked things out first because I'd have never taken it at all. The doctor, a resident, by the way, never mentioned any of these effects.

How about that election? Why the hell can't Jack Layton get the NDP off the ground? Why is it always about the Liberals and the Torys, as though there were no other choice? I have my Libby Davies sign from last year in my apartment window and I'm going to hang onto it on the chance that we wind up with another minority government that lasts five minutes.

I Feel Fine but You're a bit Screwy
Mood:  vegas lucky
Topic: Regular programming.
Turns out, I was really up shit creek last week. The day after my last post I rushed to the ER since my HG count was 45...the tank was half full, as it were, and it's a miracle that the lights didn't get shut off. 4 days in the hospital having an emergency blood transfusion made things better. I must be crazy, I don't mind hospital food. What I do mind is when professionals withhold information, like, when I'm going to eat again. I made some of the nurses nervous because I grew visibly angry at having my questions ignored and even one of the doctors didn't seem to understand why I wanted out so bad. He'd tried to keep me there a bit longer, almost trying to entice me with a scan. I told him he shoulda thought of that the day before and set something up. No, I'm not like most patients; I behave more like a hotel guest, and a largely irate one at that. It's what I do to make the experience less frightening.

The fucked-up thing about being ill or sick...and honestly, I don't know which expression is worse...is the way people treat you, as if your brain has gone to seed as well. They think it's their right to lecture you on various health topics and pester you for updates. *slaps forehead* Of course, it's all in the name of caring but that doesn't make the behaviour any more acceptable. There's another tactic in which the "well" person decides to rebuke and chastise the ill person for some crime, like procrastination [demanding a timeline of your activities/thoughts to prove you weren't being weird and letting yourself nearly die on purpose], deliberately putting yourself in medical jeopardy [because I enjoy being in hospital, right?]. I think I'll stick to fixing their computer if it's all the same.

The only way to ward off unsolicited advice [how patronising is that? As if you haven't thought about what's happened to you, as if you weren't even there.] and the "I want to call you every day" creepiness. Here's the rule of thumb: ask yourself if the action seems like something the unwell person would welcome in real life and if the answer is "no," then back off. It's really that simple, and don't bother feeling offended because the unwell person won't let you have your way. Surprise! It's not about you. I'm only a teeny bit sorry for having to write any of this in my blog but I'm attempting to knock some proactive sense into some people without making them feel too awful and maybe preventing more of the same. Just get over feeling offended/embarrassed because, again, it's not about you.

At least the geniuses at work have stopped calling to see "if [I] knew [I] had a shift tonight." You'd have thought when I called them in the middle of December to say that I'm sick and not coming in, please delete me from the schedule, that'd be enough. Um, no. I think it's because the twits at Zargon didn't believe me and nobody seems to be owning up to that. I even have my doubts about the woman from HR, who despite being friendly and nice doesn't think there's anything wrong with working conditions in the saltmine/mailroom. Again, I might as well have been talking to myself.

This afternoon's field trip will be to --> Value Village.

That's What Happens
Please, a few moments of your indulgence, avid readers.

I caught a cold/virus/alien germs last month and even after taking a week off, it still wasn't enough. Pretty much the second day I came back I was finished. The doctor says I'm anemic, and I find that an accurate explanation for the dizziness, weakness, and incredibly bad moods I've been experiencing. Here's what I don't get: I left a message for one of the bosses saying that I would call when I was coming back, and then yesterday, one of the other bosses called and wants me to return and didn't sound all that convinced in his message that my ill-weather was on the up and up. It was the tone of his voice and the way he worded it: "sick or something". Yes, asshole, I'm sick. Originally, I'd blamed chili. What do I know?

Is this a hint that they want to fire me? People with shitty jobs are usually in jeopardy from sick days, but it's not as if the meter is running. I'm not getting paid, get over yourself. Rule of thumb might be that calling your boss when you're delirious isn't a great idea lest you speak your mind.People with shitty jobs have a more difficult time getting better because they're afraid to take too much time off, and that's how the cycle keeps going. I'd like to photograph the water dispenser in the cafeteria--I might have bachelor standards of cleanliness but at least I keep my Brita clean. I'd really like to know what the brown film is that covers the drainage pipes.

I have been meaning to write something here about my old friend Hilda Thomas who died last month at the age of 77. It was only a few months ago that I'd seen Hilda because I'd become her computer tech. There's more I'd like to say about Hilda and what she meant to me, but I want to do a proper job of it. You'll have to wait.

I've also just been informed that my brother-in-law's father passed away this morning and my heart goes out to Todd and his family, his mother, sisters and many relations. Last year this time, it was my own step-grandmother and one of my honourary grandmothers who died. Please, people...try to space things out a bit. If you can. Like, every 5 years or so.

Flaming Orb in the Sky
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: Tales From the Saltmine
I work for a corporation that gives their employees Christmas cards. The personal touch is what it is, a nice thought marred only by the manager misspelling my surname on the envelope. The cover features a group shot of typical Zargon employees standing in a herd looking excited, many punching the air with raised fists making them look eerily like cult devotees. On the inside, my supervisor wrote a personal note, telling me that I'd be getting a raise come January 2nd. After I did the math, I saw that my raise was .16 an hour. Tears of joy, friends. It's like when Stephen Harper promises to cut the GST by a couple of percent. In my case, I'd have to work a million hours to see any real difference and with Harper's grandiose gesture, you'd have to spend a million dollars.

Guess what I picked up through craigslist? A MAC Performa 5200 a Personal Laserwriter, and a CD of MAC's OS 9.2. It was free and I only had to travel about 3 blocks. The woman who advertised the MAC said she'd found it recently in a nearby alley and had no use for it herself because she's already got a PC system. However, when I fired it up and had a good look at the computer's contents, I discovered documents from 2001 still sitting in the trash. There also seems to be plenty of toner in the printer so it's anybody's guess what happened. Bit like finding a notebook on the street.

It's been something like 20 years since I've touched a MAC and this was an opportunity I couldn't overlook. I remembered a few nutty quirks: for example, you have to open the trash bin before you can place anything in it unlike Windows where you can right-click the mouse or press delete. I found the Control Panel to shut off the networking feature in order to make the printer work, earning me a personal blue ribbon for ingenuity. Apart from the snooping, I haven't done much with it but it's early days. Eventually, I'd like to network this machine with my Win98 PC. Performa 5200s were built in 1995 and discontinued the next year so this isn't a machine that's going to get a lot of upgrading. Wait, though, there's more.

When I was home sick, I reconfigured another computer to have a Linux OS on it. Linux is opensource, shared software as opposed to you-know-what. Ergo, there are many varieties of Linux available and as I only have high speed lite [sic] I wasn't going to download 600+ MB simply for an experiment. Who has that kind of patience? I downloaded Damn Small Linux. The entire OS is only about 40 MB including an assortment of utilities and programs. So far, so good. Anyway, I'd like to network all three machines. Ambitious? Well, I've got to be. I'm head of entertainment here. And no, I haven't been on a date in 12 years.

Everything's the Matter with Microsoft
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Mood Swings
Hi friends.

The Kleenex Festival continues! We've now added Cough-o-Rama to keep things lively. No need to describe anything, right?

Stephen Harper should give up wearing turtlenecks, one of the least flattering garments invented. Mr. Harper doesn't look casual, rather, he resembles the math geek with clammy hands and no visible interest in girls who ran for high school president. Now that's he's opened his mouth about same-sex marriage, I applaud his handlers for letting him run his campaign into the ground on the first day. The last time a Tory became prime minister was Brian Mulroney. John Turner, the Liberal offering, didn't stand a chance. It was like Elmer Fudd running against Foghorn Leghorn.

Other irritants this evening include an futile installation of Windows XP, which cannot be activated on any other computer even if it's okay with whoever bought it. Microsoft retains its hold on the software that you bought and makes it impossible to be used anywhere else. Just so we're clear on that. You've bought it but it isn't really yours.

Sorry to my neighbours about the yelling--I totally ran out of things to shout and was reduced to using the same old profanities and basically one pronoun. And, no, shouting doesn't make me feel better, it makes me cough and it frightens my cat.

Crazy things in the news:

A couple of Port Coquitlam lesbians booked a Catholic hall for their wedding reception. All was progressing nicely until the Catholics discovered what the reception was about and cancelled the whole deal. One lawsuit later, the couple is reimbursed a pile of money but the Catholics were found to be within their rights for cancelling the event. Everybody feels bad for entirely different reasons.

How in the name of hell could that story have had a good ending? This is a similar ridiculous waste of time as that guy who tried to join the women's gym. He evidentally tried it on for "political reasons," i.e. to be an asshole, whereas these two gals just sound naive. Perhaps they're both femmes and thought the elderly Catholic gentlemen wouldn't cotton on. They did, and they still don't know what hit them. Sadly, there aren't any pictures of the couple. Are there no other halls anywhere in the lower mainland that might have proved more accomodating to the newlyweds? Port Coquitlam. Think about it.

Better News Item:

Liberia chooses first female president! Her name is Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf and she beat out a soccer star by nearly 20%. And Angela Merkel, whom I've written about, is officially the new Chancellor of Germany. She is the leader of the Christian Democratic Union, a decidedly right wing party. Germany has suffered from economic stagnation for nearly a decade and people are anxious for change. Let's hope she doesn't turn into another Margaret Thatcher.

What's on TV:

Watching Corner Gas makes me feel so Canadian I could weep; this, despite me missing out entirely on rock, paper, scissors. I have no idea how to play that game, plus it seems stupid. That said, Corner Gas has sharp, intelligent writing with an amazing cast. Janet Wright, for example, can say so much with facial expressions. Eric Petersen plays a character who doesn't seem to take a break from being haywire. What nutty idea will he get next?

Something I thought I was over:

Hey! I've got a question about missing persons and how the media reports their disappearances. What exactly is the criteria to get somebody's story on the air? Recent missing persons reporting has covered the gamut from young to old, but I'm guessing that if you're old, try not to be too screwed up before you go missing. Here's my point, and it's a difficult one.

During some part of October 13th this year, an old loved one, whom I hadn't seen for easily 20 years, left the apartment that she shared with her son while he was at work and seems to have vanished. It seems logical to conclude that she was alone since the son was the last to see her. If it hadn't been for a teeny little sidebar article in the free paper 24 Hours I wouldn't have known about M's disappearance at all. She was described as being a bit senile and suffering from mild dementia--it's not important how that happened or that both the wee story and RCMP webpage seemed to downplay the extent of M's condition [it's a long story why I think that]. Anyway, none of the other media in the lower mainland, not even the Coquitlam Now, who would've covered it as local news, bothered to mention it.

See, I don't think it's about her being old, because the media went to great lengths to write about some geezer in a plane who ended up crashed somewhere, and, currently, there's an elderly woman with a decidedly higher profile that they won't stop talking about who went missing in the mountains. She's probably dead, so give it a rest.

Turns out, unless your story has larger implications [i.e. loved one goes missing right in the hospital and dies in crawlspace/vent/cupboard] or somehow you have better connections to media, or the media just thinks you're more interesting, good luck with rallying public interest because all the coverage you'll get will be some shitty little 2 inch column, which didn't bother providing a link to the RCMP webpage. Incidentally, the RCMP mispelled M's name several times. And, no, I don't have any idea how many people go missing every day. I only cared about that person and I think she was cheated.

Additionally, what can be said about somebody who leaves their elderly, mentally confused mother on her own?

Best wishes for a happier tomorrow.

Attack of the Killer Perfume
Mood:  irritated
Now Playing: CPAC & Newsworld broadcasts
Topic: Tales From the Saltmine
In the spirit of teamwork, some of my co-workers have generously spread their cold germs to the rest of us...evidentally, there's been a security breach and now I'm hosting my own Kleenex Festival. Crabby? You have no idea.

I've been looking up corporate lingo (buzzwords, slang, etc) and haven't found quite what I'm looking for. The word that particularly annoys me is "productivity." It is a noun that refers to the ability to make/produce whatever. So, one can increase one's productivity, i.e. make more stuff, file more...whatever you do, you do more of it, by a variety of means."Productivity" is confused with "efficiency," meaning that you can increase output without doing the work any better. I hear the word at least 3 times every shift and it's become a lot like water torture, or like having the same damn mosquito buzzing around your head. Next time I hear that word, I might suggest that management beat us with something else. It's like that animated cartoon about whacking the mule over the head to make it work. Congratulations, management, you need a bigger 2x4.

Here's a delightful site, appropriately named Not For Work Humor. This link describes things you oughtn't say to the boss, so I'm just now scanning it to see if I've blurted anything out. So far so good. This advice is hilarious: Find out where your boss shops and buy exactly the same outfits. Wear them one day after your boss does. This is especially effective if your boss is of a different gender than you. Remember my sports jersey rant? Turns out, there are matching pants that make one of my bosses look like an overgrown 12 year old. Rest assured, however, that I don't wear red pants. Ever.

Here's another link called Corporatespeak which showcases a number of common phrases and offers witty translations.

Today's title refers to the gag-worthy aroma that has enmeshed itself around a woman who works in another department who makes frequent visits to the mailroom to collect various items. Often, the items aren't ready, so she lingers and visits as many people as she can, walking from one end of the floor to the other. She's chatty and manages to spend at least an hour and a half during an evening. Perhaps because she's an "upstairs" worker she has special rights. Something, however, is terribly wrong with her perfume. Perhaps I should feel sorry for her because she doesn't seem to have caring friends to tell her that stale musk doesn't work. In the same way that Tim Horton's donuts are full of sugars and flavouring yet lack taste, her perfume has only one tedious, uncharacteristic note. I don't know what this woman wears--I just wish she'd stop it.

The non-confidence vote in parliament went as expected with a firm majority voting to dissolve Prime Minister Martin's government, starting the campaigns for a January election. I agree with Rick Mercer that we'll probably see another minority government, likely Liberal, and that both the Liberals and Tories will have leadership conventions depending on election results. This is clearly Stephen Harper's last chance to make a decent showing. Mercer also thinks we should get ready for another Quebec referendum.

Things I'm tired of hearing about include "broken promises" in relation to politicians. Sweet Jesus on the cross!! The amount of outrage from politicians who accuse their colleagues of not keeping their word is so patronising to the electorate. It's as though with every election, we are crushed to learn that there is no Easter Bunny. Fair enough that they're accusing each other of allsorts but don't get mad on our behalf.

I'd Rather Be Me Than Katie Holmes
Mood:  hungry
Topic: The World At Large
I hardly know where to begin. Thanks to Zargon deleting 2 or 3 shifts from me for the past 3 weeks, I've had to resort to slightly better than WWII rationing methods to stay afloat. I'm officially very tired of pork steaks and would prefer not to eat them for a while. The same holds for peanut butter (consumed from the jar or in a sandwich), boiled eggs, and tinned fish. Friends, try to ensure that you find employment with an outfit that isn't going to screw you in the first three months.

Saturday, November 19th, is municipal election day, so be sure to vote. Living in Vancouver, I wish I had better candidates to choose from, but there it is. Asshole or nebbish for mayor...gosh, what to do? My tradition is to vote for the party first, then the candidate, with only one notable exception, and now I can't recall whether I voted for the least objectionable candidate or didn't choose anybody. All I remember is that Philip Owen and Jim Green were both up for mayor. Vote with your instincts, that seems to be the most sensible plan.

It's the beginning of winter and Vancouver, with fewer trees retaining their colourful leaves, is entering her grey season. You know what I mean. The sky reminds me of the planetarium's screen before the show starts. It's cold out. People are becoming anxious about Christmas. Have we had Hallowe'en yet? Just checking.

Andre Boisclair is the new leader of the Parti Quebecois (PQ), and Angela Merkel, whom I wrote about earlier, will be the new Chancellor of Germany with a coalition goverment. Nobody's found fault with Michaëlle Jean since her recent witticism about Bosclair and "the party line," a play on his publically acknowledged use of coke while a cabinet minister nearly 10 years ago. At 39, he's the youngest party leader in Canada's history, plus he's gay. Whoo hoo.

Over the past couple of weeks I watched a 4 hour special on the 1995 Quebec referendum, plus about 6 hours of CSI/Law & Order in their various incarnations. Who says I don't know how to have fun?

Here Comes the Rain Again
Mood:  energetic
Topic: My Cat Said
Imagine that, it's November already. As you know, working graveyard shifts/rotating shifts, does an amazing overhaul of one's time perception. Too frequently, I ask myself what day it is or need to confirm the time. Good news is that it doesn't feel like senility, only confusion, and I like the way that such a vexing state can be remedied so simply. So, now it's the beginning of November and I feel surprised.

Tuesday ushered the release of the first Gomery report, and like the keener I am, I watched The National tonight to see what the At Issue panel had to say about it. Andrew Coyne doesn't think that Prime Minister Martin's innocent or guilt is important. I think his tie is definitely on too tight. The report is available online--bear in mind it's 1,400 pages--at Gomery Online

Off to finish cleaning my apartment in honour of both myself and an old, dear friend who's visiting me for the evening. Politics can wait, filth cannot.

Another Year
Mood:  hungry
Topic: The World At Large
Very pleased about a bunch of things, mostly that the CBC lockout has ended. Not broadcasting the investiture of Governor General Michaëlle Jean was one thing; I was becoming concerned about the Queen's annual Christmas message. Yeah, I know, we can watch it online but it isn't the same thing.

I've just had a birthday on the 4th, and now I'm 44. Today I read about how employees shouldn't "act their age," as in, if you're young, be mature, and if you're mature, look flexible. They didn't say to, but if you're a mature male who still fancies himself, please feel free to dye your hair some unusual shade or bleach it, and possibly make it spiky. Include sports replica shirts in your work wardrobe. When the dyke at work starts wearing them too, which of you looks sillier?

I managed to miss another social occasion, the Women in Print closing dance. Initially, I balked at the price which started at $20. Perhaps I'm channelling my grandpa again, for he was one of the world's biggest skinflints. I hated to think how much the beer would be, whether I'd like the band, and I was further annoyed that the tickets appeared only to be sold at WIP over at 4th and Alma. Working graveyard shifts effectively wipes out half my usable day; if I get up at 3:30 in the afternoon, you couldn't pay me to drive to the west side. Plan B was to slip in later and I talked myself out of that one by conjuring visions of me running into old girlfriends with new partners. I am such a chickenshit and I make myself laugh.

So instead of going to a gathering that would've had some of the town's most eligible women, I stayed at home playing Microsoft Train Simulator. Nothing like smoking some grass and then navigating the Flying Scotsman. Wheee! That was my birthday present along with some High Kush. I wouldn't mind another pair of tighter fitting jeans--after my spectacular weight loss I seem to have lost me bum.

Is Jamie Lee Hamilton a crackhead? Just wondering.